


Like the Deserts Miss the Rain

by flashofthefuse



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 72,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4903861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashofthefuse/pseuds/flashofthefuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the end of series three.  Phryne has left for England and Jack faces difficult times and his darkest fears before embarking on a journey to find his love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is by far the most angsty thing I've ever written. I promise, it picks up at the end. I hope you'll stick with it! 
> 
> It was inspired by a discussion on Tumblr about songs that make you think of how Jack must be missing Phryne. 
> 
> The song that prompted this is "Missing" by Everything But the Girl.

It was late in the day. The elaborate red, ironwork railings threw decorative shadows on the walls of the Italianate mansion. He rounded the corner and stopped.

In summer heat or winter chill and, sometimes even in the pouring rain, he could be found standing here, in front of this house. He looked through the gate, up the walk to the painted front door with its colored glass sidelights and the ruby red transom window.

In his mind's eye he could see inside. The tessellated tiles of the entryway, the mirrored coat stand where he would hang his hat and trench, the teal green, stenciled walls of the parlour, and her, the lady of the house.

Standing on the polished wood staircase in a dangerous dress. Before him, misty eyed, as he pinned on the small brooch, or side by side on the chaise, not an inch between them. So many memories. How was it possible they remained so vivid after so many years.

Five years to be exact. Five years since he’d stood in that field and kissed her. The woman that had brought him to life, given meaning to his days and lit his soul ablaze. Five years since he’d lost her.

Jack had always thought it would be another man that swept her from him. That idea, at one time, had been torture. Now, it was infinitely preferable to the reality.

It hadn’t been another man. It had been bad weather and bad luck. At least that’s what they’d been told. The wreckage had never been found.

The mystery of it all suited her. No ordinary ending for Phryne Fisher. That would have been too dull. This way she remained always vibrant, always beautiful and always infuriatingly unpredictable and intoxicating.

And this way Jack could imagine it had never happened. Believe that she was off on an exciting adventure. Living her life wildly and enjoying every minute.

She was on a beautiful, tropical island. Walking on a beach, the sun warm on her face, the sand, white and pure, stretching out for miles before her. Sometimes, he’d even throw in a handsome, young native man to keep her company. He didn’t want her to be alone. His love for her made him generous in his imaginings.

But he knew the truth. She would never have disappeared without a trace, leaving them all in grief and pain. There were too many who loved her and that she had loved in return. And they had all gathered when they’d heard the news. All drawn to this very address, her home, where they had each, on their own, been pulled into her orbit.

Dot Collins had been visibly devastated, collapsing to the ground unable to stop the tears. Collins had told him that she’d literally keened, wailing helplessly, when she’d first heard. It had terrified her poor husband who’d had no idea of how to comfort her. When Jack arrived, she’d flung herself at him, somehow knowing that only he could to truly comprehend and share the depths of her grief.

Jane, clearly wrecked, was stoic. Having lived through a difficult, desperate childhood, she was immensely grateful for her time with Miss Phryne, despite it having been unfairly cut short.

They had all sought each other’s company often, but as time went by they drifted apart. The house was sold and Mr. Butler was able to retire with the money Miss Fisher had willed him. Jane went to school to study medicine, inspired and encouraged by Dr. Mac.

Jack would cross paths with the two red raggers around town and of course he still saw Hugh at the station. Occasionally the Collins’ would have him to dinner, but that happened less and less. Hugh and Dot were far too busy now with their two young children.

Most nights found Jack at his desk or home in his small bungalow. Often he’d play his piano. He only ever played in the privacy of his home. She’d left the piano to him and though it was a bit too big for his small abode, he would never part with it. Even when it hurt, he made himself play. For her.

He’d eat alone and afterward sit in his chair to read until he could no longer keep his eyes open. It helped to be utterly exhausted before attempting to sleep. It seemed to make the dreams occur less often. He didn’t mind dreaming about her so much, because in his dreams she was with him. It was the waking he hated. That’s when the pain came, and never left. It was just easier not to dream at all.

Sometimes, when he couldn’t stand the loneliness, he’d go to Strano’s for his evening meal. The last time he’d been there, Concetta had greeted him warmly, as she always did. She’d looked especially lovely and happy that night. The reason becoming evident when she’d absently laid a hand on her stomach and Jack had seen the small, growing bump.

Her husband was a kind man and they seemed content. They’d run the restaurant together since Papa Antonio’s death. Even now, with his only hope of happiness shattered, Jack didn’t regret his decision regarding Concetta. He could never have loved her the way she deserved, but he did appreciate her friendship.

Someone looked out the window of the house, stirring Jack from his musings. They barely glanced before letting the curtain fall closed again. They were used to seeing the strange man outside their home. Perhaps they thought him a fan of the architecture. It was a beautiful house.

But that’s all it was and he didn’t understand why he was continually drawn to it after all this time. She wasn’t here. She never would be here again. He turned from the house, not bothering to check the tears that had begun streaming down his face.

* * *

 

Jack woke to find his pillow soaked, his eyes overflowing and his body curled into a tight ball. He rolled onto his back, stretching and breathing heavily, trying to calm himself.

The dreams were getting worse. And they were painfully vivid, incredibly detailed, his torment so very real. It always took until he was fully awake to realize it had been only a dream and to remember that she was still alive and well. Winging her way across the sea.

Even that didn’t stop the pain from lingering throughout the day. But that may have had more to do with her absence than any dream. God how he missed her.

He rose from bed and went to the bath where he splashed some water on his face. His eyes were puffy and red. There was nothing to be done about that and he knew he’d arrive at the station once again looking as though he’d had a night of too much drink.

His dreams weren’t always terrible. Sometimes they were amazing. Less precise, yet just as evocative. All heat and light. His hands on her warm, soft skin. Their bodies tight to each other. Their lips pressed together, urgent and desperate. Limbs entangling, hearts pounding. But those dreams were fuzzy and out of focus, and he always woke suddenly, gasping for air, feeling unsettled and incomplete.

This is how it had been since the day she had left, two weeks earlier. Missing Phryne was unbearable. Especially after the kiss. Knowing what it felt like to touch her, hold her close and feel her lips on his. To hear her say she that she wanted him. He had thought his heart would explode.

How long would he wait before he knew that feeling again? How was he to stand the waiting? He was distracted all morning. Luckily there was nothing important needing his attention, as trying to concentrate was a hopeless task.

“ _Come after me,_ ” she’d said. He knew she didn’t really expect him to be able to do that. It was just their indirect way of communicating.

It was odd that they were so often able to speak without saying a word. Their mode of silent communication had served them extremely well in their investigations. Both seeming to always know what the other was thinking. But when it came to their feelings, that was a horse of a different color.

There they spoke in code and were riddled with doubt. Jack understood his own hesitation. How was he to truly believe a woman like Phryne could love him? But, so often, he felt that she did.

He thought that she could have no delusions regarding his feelings for her, yet sometimes she’d looked so surprised, and happily relieved, to find him at her door.

For as well as he thought he knew her, he didn’t always trust his own instincts where she was concerned. Could she have meant it? Was she expecting him to come after her? And at this point did he even care?

He was ready to take her at her word. He wouldn’t survive much longer if he just sat here, miserably awaiting her return. And he was useless on the job. These had been the longest two weeks of his life. He resolved to visit the travel agency on his lunch. Then he’d talk to the commissioner about taking a leave.

He wondered how long it would take to reach her and how long he would stay once he had. How would he find her and explain his presence to her parents?

She could have reached England by now. Her plans were so unstructured he had no idea how long a stay she planned. He imagined she’d return by ship rather than fly back alone. What if she turned around for home immediately and he passed her on the seas? Or, would she want to travel for awhile and have some fun?

Damn her for being so impetuous! How on earth was he to follow her when he didn’t know where she was going! Jack considered himself a man of action, but it was careful action. Thought out and well planned. How did one plan for the unknown? And Phryne Fisher was the epitome of the unknown.

“Sir?” Constable Collins was at his door.

“What is it,” Jack snapped, then shook his head. “I’m sorry Collins, you caught me off guard. What can I do for you?”

“Nothing sir. It’s just the post has arrived and there’s a letter here addressed to you,” Hugh said.

“Just put it on my desk, Collins, ” Jack said, indicating a spot on the corner.

“I think you might want to look at this right away, sir,” Hugh said, holding the envelope out to Jack. He had a knowing grin on his face.

Jack took the envelope and looked down to see his name written in a familiar, elegant hand. He blinked.

“Shall I close the door, sir?” Hugh asked as he made to leave.

“Yes,” Jack said as his lips curved into a small smile. “And see that I’m not disturbed,” he said, looking up. “Thank you, Collins.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see things from Phryne's point of view and Jack and Phryne correspond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After that beginning I couldn't let things stand and had to get poor Jack to a happier place! I wrote this chapter rather quickly. Please forgive any typos or mistakes!

Phryne raised her hand in the air in a final farewell. A small knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Was she doing the right thing? Risking her own happiness for that of her parent’s? It was not as if her father had done much to earn her devotion. But what of her mother? She deserved better than she’d been given from this man. What she saw in him Phryne would never understand, but she loved him, and love, as Phryne had discovered, would not be denied.

Nor should it be. It was wonderful. So why then was she leaving her own love behind?

“Is it going to be this bumpy the entire trip?” Her father yelled back at her.

Perhaps she could tip the plane. Just enough to toss him over. Then she could turn around and run back to Jack’s arms and those delightful lips. The mere thought warmed her and she smiled at her griping father.

It irked him and he turned, irritated, to face forward again.

The days went on and the Baron’s mood had yet to improve. Luckily, it was difficult to talk in the air, so Phryne didn’t have to put up with his whinging there. She enjoyed flying, but the days were long and gave her too much time to think. Mostly she thought of Jack. Why had it taken her so long to admit that she loved him and wanted to be with him? And then to fling it at him at the last moment, as she’d been leaving. Had that been fair?

It did seem to make him happy. The smile on his face and his kiss had said so. But why had she tossed in that last bit? The part about there being a whole world out there for him to worry about? She’d been teasing, of course, but she knew how he fretted. She had every intention of returning to him, so why couldn’t she have assured him of that?

Sometimes her own careless nature worked against her. But what was done was done. In his heart she hoped he felt her devotion. That devotion came as a bit of a surprise to her. Tonight her father had convinced her to stay and have a drink with him after dinner. He’d then proceeded to strike up conversations with everyone around. People who were charmed by him and his extravagant ways. People other than her. She had just decided to finish her drink and head to her room, when a very handsome gentleman asked if he could join her.

It was the kind of thing that happened all the time and she allowed him to sit without a second thought. But his attentions and flirtations didn’t appeal as such things usually did, and she found herself uninterested in playing along. He was very good looking and pleasingly put together. His attentions indicated he was good at this game and she imagined he’d be quite fun between the sheets.

He was persistent and obviously interested. She could easily have taken him back to her room to scratch an itch that had been gnawing at her, but she knew it would not resolve her longing. If she allowed him into her room, she’d end dissatisfied and eager to get him out her door. She declined his offer of another drink and went up to her room alone.

Was this how it was to be now? Phryne Fisher, pining away for a man she left farther behind with each passing day? How ridiculously ordinary of her.

It’s not that she didn’t believe in romantic love. It was alright for some people. Dot and Hugh came to mind. She’d actively encouraged their love and had been happy to see its success. She simply hadn’t been interested in romantic love for herself and thought perhaps she was not even capable of it.

She had thought she was in love once, but that had been infatuation and obsession. It was ugly and possessive and she’d known soon enough that it wasn’t love.

After that there’d been plenty of men. All different. All exciting in their own way and willing to share with her the carnal pleasures of life without any attached strings. The few times a man had hinted at wanting more, she’d closed that door quickly, without regret. She had begun to think there was no man alive that could tempt her into a commitment and had been perfectly content in that.

Then came Jack. So slowly and quietly had he crept in. He never expected or demanded anything of her, but was always there, believing in and supporting her. Before she knew it, she’d given him her heart. Even now she couldn’t say when it had happened, but it was most definitely his to hold in his hands.

And he held it with a loose grip and tender care. As though it were a precious thing, always threatening to take flight. He seemed to expect that flight and she knew he would accept it, and let her go, if he thought it was what she wanted.

But, did the caution with which he held her mean he didn’t believe her constant? Was he, even now, thinking she would move on and never return to him?

She knew he had options. Why wouldn’t he? He was beautiful, inside and out. He’d been clear that he wanted her, having walked away from others. But, would his desire remain in her absence or would her flight and teasing words convince him of her fickle nature and cause him to seek comfort elsewhere?

She couldn’t let that happen. Phryne took out a piece of stationary and began to write.

~~_Jack,_ ~~

~~_I hope this finds you well. I am enjoying my travels, but for the constant displeasure of my father it would be_ ~~

No. She crumpled the page and tossed it to the floor.

~~_Dear Jack,_ ~~

~~_I’m enjoying my travels, they are delightful. I must confess I think of you. Certain things cross my path and bring you to mind on occasion._ ~~

No! She was doing it again. Prevaricating and being disingenuous. She imagined him reading that breezy, vague statement, tossing her letter aside and heading to Stano’s and the waiting arms of Concetta Fabrizzi. She remembered the way the gorgeous woman had helped him into his coat, brushing down his lapels and grasping his hand for a brief caress at his departure.

She had to do this right. To leave him with no doubt. Pulling out a fresh sheet of paper, she began again.

* * *

 

Jack waited until Hugh had closed his office door before tearing into Phryne’s letter.

_Darling Jack,_

_I hope this finds you well. I am well, but could not go one day more without writing you._

_I find, however, that I’m having trouble getting started. This is my third attempt. An appalling waste of good paper!_

_Let me start now by saying that I fear my words at our parting may have been misleading._

Jack’s heart stopped. Was she regretting what she had said to him? Maybe she had spoken in haste, in the excitement of her impending adventure, and now that she was away, and free of him, thought better of it and sought to warn him off.

_Allow me to apologize for my careless words. Asking you to come after me was unfair. I know you have commitments that keep you, and that you are not free to pick up and leave on a whim._

This was going from bad to worse. She didn’t want him to follow her, may not want him at all. The next sentences allowed him to breathe again.

_I didn’t mean to imply you need chase me all over the world to try to win me. I would never require that! I only hoped, in my too clever way, to convey to you my feelings. To let you know that I desire your affection and wish for you to come after me, figuratively, and stay with me._

_I was also remiss to say you had the whole world to worry you. The world, in it’s entirety, can offer me nothing better than what I find when I look in your eyes or stand by your side._

_Have I said too much? Do my words frighten you? I hope not. Though I will confess they do frighten me some!_

_This is new to me and most unlike how we are with each other. Is it the distance that allows me to be so forthcoming? Perhaps the whiskey I enjoyed after dinner has loosed my tongue, or - more accurately, pen._

_No. Neither of those are true. I tell you these things only because I miss you terribly and wish to make clear that you remain in my thoughts and in my heart._

_I cherish you Jack, and am ever grateful that you offer to me so much of yourself, so gracefully. I will do my very best to be careful with this incredible gift._

_Your arrival into my life came as an unexpectedly welcome surprise. Your love even more so. I’m not sure I deserve it, and don’t truly understand how I’ve been lucky enough to turn the head of the most amazing man I’ve ever had the pleasure to know._

_Or, do I presume too much to speak of your love? I hope that I don’t. And, I mean to make certain you are left in no doubt of me. To that end, I say to you now, unequivocally, you hold my heart Jack Robinson and I give it to you willingly._

_There. I’ve said it. I feel better now. Regardless of what happens from this day forward, I will know I have made my desires clear and hope they please you._

_Please write to tell me that you are missing me too. It will make our time apart easier to bear._

_Yours, truly and affectionately,_

_Phryne_

_P.S. I should have arrived in England by the time this reaches you or shortly thereafter. Enclosed is a card with the address at which I can be reached. I hope to hear from you soon._

Jack tipped the envelope to dislodge the small card with her address in London. 

He wanted to start immediately on his response but decided to wait until evening, when he was home and had the privacy he required. Her letter had left him unimaginably happy, for so many reasons.

First, and foremost, she was safe. Following closely behind the first, she loved him. She may not have said the word, but her message was clear. And, she missed him, enough to pour out her feelings for him. But all the reasons for his happiness paled when put beside the larger point. She loved him.

He would most definitely wait until he was alone to reply. She deserved his undivided attention. He wondered briefly where this left his plan to visit the travel agent’s office. He decided to leave that for another day.

The afternoon crawled along. Jack’s mood was greatly improved, but he was restless to be home, where he could read again her words and craft his response. He spent the afternoon composing letters in his head, none of them seemed to adequately express his feelings. He wanted to write her a masterpiece worthy of the Bard. To leave her feeling as wonderful as she had him. To release all of his pent up longing and finally speak freely to her of his love.

At long last his shift ended and he was able to go home. Once there he didn’t hesitate to put pen to paper.

 

_My Dearest Phryne,_

_You cannot begin to know the joy your letter has brought to me. In responding, I considered turning to my good friend Will Shakespeare for assistance, in the hopes of moving you in a similar way. Sonnet 116 springs immediately to mind, but that is too easy. You deserve nothing less than my best and most personal efforts._ _And I don’t want to speak to you in poetry and rhyme. I want to speak clearly, from my heart._

_You ask if you are missed._

_Darling Phryne, to say that I miss you does not begin to describe. In truth I’ve been despairing without you. Thoughts of you fill my waking hours and at night you haunt my dreams._

_That is not to say these dreams are unwelcome. The dreams in which we are together are always desired. There are others that have not been so pleasing, but now that I have heard from you, and know you are well, perhaps they will cease._

_I wish you would not make yourself uncomfortable regarding our parting. That memory, for me, is sublime. I remember the light in your eyes, the smile on your lips and your kiss. I can still feel you in my arms and taste you on my tongue._

_As to your request that I come after you. I understood your meaning. But, you should know that I would follow you to the ends of this earth and beyond. If I could be at your side this very moment, I would. I find being without you, not knowing where you are, or how you are doing, difficult. I confess I was near to setting out after you this very day!_

_But for now, it is enough to know that you are whole and that you miss me. And if I hold the appeal of the world for you in my eyes, it is only because you have put it there. You are the world to me, Phryne._

_Now who has said too much?_

_Your words do not frighten me. They thrill and uplift me. They dare me to dream as I’ve never allowed myself, at least not in my waking mind. (What my subconscious gets up to is beyond even my control.)_

_You, my love, are a surprise to me as well. In every way possible. An undeserved, wonderful, magnificent surprise._

_To hear that I hold your heart._

_Words fail me._

_I want you to never again demure to speak of my love for you. You are not presumptuous. My love for you is boundless and will not lessen due to distance. I do not need your presence to love you. It is not your face, or form, your lips or hands that I require. (Though I do adore all of those aspects of you.)_

_It is simply you that I want. Your indomitable spirit, your generous heart, your enchanting nature and extraordinary beauty, inside and out. These are the things I cherish. If anything will make this time away from you easier to bear, it is hearing from you that you are safe, and being told that I am missed and desired. In that order, darling._

_To know you are alive and well is my first priority. For I can only be happy knowing you walk this earth, even if you were to never again walk by my side._

_But I do so hope that you will walk with me again, very soon. I impatiently await our reunion._

_Until that day, I will remain ever faithful, ever yours,_

_Jack_

Jack posted his reply the very next morning and in quick succession, heard again from Phryne.

_My darling Jack,_

_You do love me!  After reading your letter I could fly without a plane!_

_I sleep with your words under my pillow and I would tell you here of my dreams, but I’m afraid I might run afoul of decency laws! Just to give you a hint, your hands and lips figure prominently._

_I’m also most curious to hear more about what your ‘subconscious gets up to’. I know my own is active. Having had a lot of quiet time in the air to think, I can tell you my conscious mind has stayed busy as well. We must compare notes when I see you next._

_We arrived safely in England and Father has settled in at home and reconciled with Mother. They are keeping me busy with social engagements and Mother is happy for my company. But I am missing my friends and most especially you._

_Did you really think to set out to find me? How I wish you had. It would be so lovely to have you here. I don’t know how much longer I care to wait before I see you again._

_To that end I have a proposal for you. I know a long voyage and extended leave from your post is out of the question, but what of a shorter vacation? Surely you are due for one!_

_I don’t ask you to come after me all the way to England. I’ve been here too long already._

_What would you say to the prospect of meeting me part way? There are several wonderful ports of call between England and Australia. Port Said in Egypt would be amazing. We could take a few days to see the pyramids and then return to Melbourne together. Or, if that is too far a distance, there is Bombay or Colombo. I would meet you in any one of them._

_In fact I would meet you anywhere Jack. If you can only manage a few days away, I could take a ship that docks in Fremantle and we would have the time it takes to return home to get reacquainted. Even one day alone with you, before returning to reality, would be a dream._

_Is it possible for you to get away? Say the word and I will will leave tomorrow! Even if you are unable to meet me, I plan to head home very soon. I will wait to hear from you before making my plans. Write quickly Jack._

_All my love,_

_Phryne_


	3. Chapter 3

Jack sat in his chair. Phryne’s letter lay on his lap as he stared into space, thinking back to when he’d received her first. That day he’d been prepared to follow her to England. Whether he’d have actually done it, he’d never know. She’d written, and eased his mind, and made him content to await her return.

That first letter had surprised him. He would never have expected her to be so unabashedly romantic. But then, she always surprised him. And more often than not, he liked the surprise. It was part of her allure.

She was unpredictable, exciting and entertaining. Always looking ahead to the next adventure and gladly allowing others to follow. He’d eagerly run behind, happy to be included. Now she was inviting him to join her on an adventure. No veiled words. Nothing open to interpretation or misunderstanding.

 _“I will meet you anywhere....Say the word and I will leave tomorrow._ ”

Only a fool would disappoint her. He still wasn’t sure if he was a fool, or not.

He couldn’t remember when he’d last taken any length of holiday or requested time away from the job. He didn’t see how the commissioner could deny him. If he went, what would she be expecting? Where would they stay? He had money saved, but was not a wealthy man. He could never afford her lifestyle and he wouldn’t like her to pay his way.

He was overthinking things, as he often did. As attractive as he found Phryne’s impetuous nature, he certainly was a careful man himself! But he hadn’t been cautious in his letter to her. He’d said he would follow her anywhere, be by her side at that very moment if he could. Had those been only words?

There was really only one question he need answer. _Did he want to go to her?_

 _Yes._ That one was easy. He would go.

He still thought it best to have a firm plan in mind when he replied to her. He spent the evening reading about some of the places she had mentioned. Egypt held the most appeal. When the tomb of Tutankhamen had been discovered in ’22 it had been all over the papers. It had fascinated Jack and he’d always hoped to one day see those wondrous, improbable pyramids.

Tomorrow, he’d look into travel plans, talk to the commissioner and send word to Phryne. He suddenly felt like the boy he had once been. The one that had bought that first bicycle and rode as far as it would take him. He was heading to bed, lost in his thoughts, when it hit him. Egypt. Ancient artifacts, dead kings and tombs. Foyle. He couldn’t do that to her.

But she had mentioned the pyramids herself. Had that been for him? He knew they had never discussed his fascination with the region. He’d been very careful to avoid it. However, she knew him well enough to know it would interest him. And thinking of his enjoyment would be very much like her. But this trip was about being with her, not the destination. It didn’t matter to him where they were, as long as they were together, and he could hold her in his arms. He had a feeling tonight’s dreams would be of a pleasant variety.

 

 

* * *

By noon the next day it was arranged. He’d requested an open ended leave, not to last more than six weeks. Six weeks that had the potential to be the best of his life.

There was a P & O ship, the Mooltan, sailing from Melbourne in seven days. He inquired at the agency about ships she might take. There were at least two options that would have her arriving within days of him. He thought about sending word to Phryne and awaiting confirmation from her before booking his passage, but decided that this was a time for decisive action. He stopped on his way back to the office to send a telegram.

**Sailing 25 November - Melbourne to Colombo on P &O Mooltan - Estimated arrival 11 December - Jack **

Phryne made arrangements the very day she received Jack’s telegram and sent word to him. Her ship would sail the same day as his, but would most likely arrive one day before.

She was a little surprised by his choice of destinations. She had been sure he’d pick Egypt. She knew it was a place that fascinated Jack. She’d overhead a conversation when he’d been waiting for her one evening in her parlour. There had been a story in the news about a recent expedition and Jack and Mr. Butler had been discussing it excitedly. Jack’s enthusiasm had been obvious.

She loved his curious mind. He was always reading, and exploration and adventure were frequent topics. She had suggested the pyramids in the hopes it would tempt him to accept her invitation.

It hadn’t been her first choice, for the awful memories it evoked, but she had thought that with Jack, she might keep her demons at bay. In truth she was relieved by his choice. She didn’t want their reunion shadowed by ghosts. She wondered if somehow he’d known that.

Phryne’s mother was not pleased that she was leaving. She wanted her to stay another month, to be there for her birthday and the holidays. She couldn’t understand her daughter’s impatience to be gone. Phryne didn’t mention Jack, saying only that she loved her mother and had enjoyed their time together, but was restless to return to her home and wished to take some time on her own, to travel a little.

* * *

 

Jack looked out over the wharf at Fremantle as the ship pulled away. The Mooltan had docked in the morning and had spent the day taking on passengers. Quite a crowd now stood on the deck, holding streamers and waving farewell to friends and family that had come to see them off.

He’d been on board several days now. No one had seen him off at his departure. The only person he’d told of his plans was Collins. And he’d made no mention of meeting Miss Fisher, only imparting his destination and the length of time he expected to be away. Fremantle was the only stop. From there, it was straight sailing to Colombo, British Ceylon and Phryne.

His impatience increased with each passing day. The days on board ship were pleasant enough, if a bit monotonous. He spent quite a lot of the time walking the deck, stretching his legs. Breakfast was at 8:30 each morning, lunch at 1:00 and afternoon tea at 4:30. Then perhaps a bath and dressing for dinner, which was served each night at 7:45.

He’d splurged for a cabin on the deck, allowing him to have his port hole open at all times. It was a snug space and he was fairly comfortable, if a little claustrophobic. Along with the berth, it contained a wardrobe with hooks for his clothing and a small washstand. The bath rooms were beautifully kept and he particularly enjoyed the hot salt water baths in the morning.

The dining room was situated in the center of the ship and was rather magnificent. They were six to a table, with a steward to look after each table. There was dancing after dinner, but Jack preferred to sit in the music room, which was fitted out with a piano, small tables, lounges and easy chairs.

A group of passengers had formed a sports committee, inviting all to join in the sports during the day. They played Deck Tennis, Quoits and Bull Board. Jack would sometimes watch, but had yet to join in, preferring to spend his time relaxing on deck. Or, in the ship library, which was open to all, and boasted many fine books.

He did strike up conversation with a fellow passenger from India that he found fascinating, life there being so different from his in Australia.

Bathing was available on the well deck forward. Ladies from 5:00 to 6:30 p.m., Gentlemen from 7:00 till 9:00 a.m. Mixed bathing was not allowed. He’d thought of what Phryne’s opinion would be of that, and it made him smile.

At dinner each night his table consisted of a young couple, the McRoberts of Perth who were on their honeymoon to France. They were fairly engrossed in one another and did not spend much time conversing with the others. The remaining three were a Mr. and Mrs. Newton of Auckland, traveling with their unmarried daughter, Enid. They were also on their way to France, and after three weeks there, planned to go on to England.

Mr. Newton was a quiet man. His wife appeared highly opinionated and, Jack suspected, somewhat intolerant and set in her ways. She commented frequently on the number of ‘dark’ stewards attending them. The daughter was pretty and, like her father, quiet and a bit shy. With a mother as overbearing as Mrs. Newton, this wasn’t surprising. If Jack was already seated when they arrived, the mother would position her daughter at his side.

On his tenth day at sea they passed the Tropic of Capricorn. Jack stood on deck and saw a huge whale spouting water nearly twenty feet into the air. He heard someone approach and turned to find Enid Newton standing at his side.

“Oh! Isn’t that wonderful!” she exclaimed.

“Yes,” Jack agreed. “Magnificent. Are you enjoying your sea voyage Miss Newton?”

“I am,” she replied. “And please call me Enid. After all, I believe my mother intends for you to be my husband before too long.”

Jack turned to her in surprise to find her smiling mischievously.

“Don’t be alarmed, Mr. Robinson,” she laughed. “You are quite safe from me. In fact when I saw you standing here I decided I need come over and disabuse you of that notion on the whole. I could not take one more night seated beside you at dinner, witnessing your utter discomfort.”

“Please, call me Jack, and allow me to apologize if I’ve offended you,” he said. He was embarrassed to think he’d been rude.

“Not at all!” she said. “You’ve been far more polite than most of the poor men Mother has set her sights on. She’s determined to marry me off.”

“And you are not interested in that?” he asked.

“Perhaps someday,” she replied. “But for now I have other plans. Plans my mother knows nothing of.”

He looked at her curiously.

“Since graduating from University, I've been assisting one of my professors in cataloguing a large collection of Egyptian antiquities. He has invited me along on an expedition beginning eight weeks from now. On our return trip from England, I will leave the ship at Port Said and join his team."

My father is aware of and has encouraged me in this plan. I don’t envy him having to deal with my mother once I’ve made my escape, but he assures me he will be able to bear it.”

Jack was astonished. This apparently shy mouse was in fact as cunning as a cat. When would he learn not to underestimate the determination and resourcefulness of the ‘fairer’ sex.

“I envy you your adventure,” he said. “It sounds fascinating.”

“I admit I am very anxious for it to begin,” she said. “And what of your adventure Jack? I believe you are leaving the ship at Colombo?”

“Yes,” he said. “I will be meeting a friend returning from holiday in England.” He found himself excited be able to speak of Phryne, even in such veiled terms.

“And this friend, it is a woman?” Enid asked, once again surprising Jack. When had be become so transparent?

“I suspected an attachment on your side from the way you behaved toward me," she said. "You’ve been unfailingly polite, but clearly unavailable. And the light in your eyes just now, when you spoke of your friend, confirmed my suspicion.”

After that, Jack and Enid spoke often. They discussed their mutual interest in ancient Egypt and exchanged book titles one thought the other might enjoy. Occasionally she would join him in the music room in the evening for a game of draughts. She was intelligent and interesting and it was nice to have some company on board. He worried that her mother might be led astray by their budding friendship, but Enid was unconcerned. She said it made her mother a more pleasant traveling companion and asked him not to worry himself.

As Saturday approached, most of the passengers were getting excited about the Fancy Dress ball planned for that night. Mrs. Newton was disappointed to hear that Jack did not plan to attend and tried mightily to change his mind over the next days, speaking often of the beautiful costume her ‘clever’ daughter was constructing from found items and purchases from the ship’s curiosity shop. Jack knew Enid was not excited about the evening, but he listened with feigned interest, and shared a knowing smile with her when her mother looked away.

On Saturday night he walked past the ballroom and looked in on the passengers in their varied costumes. He imagined that if Phryne were with him she’d be thick in the middle of it all and would most likely have somehow persuaded him to be nearby, feeling ridiculous, but enjoying watching her. He retired to the music room with his book, thinking happily that in only four days he should be by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mooltan and Ormande were ocean vessels that made many trips between Australia and England. Based on information I could find about their top speeds and ports of call I have created the timeline for Phryne and Jack's trips. I was also able to find an account of a trip from Australia to England on the Mooltan in 1929 that helped me with some of the details of Jack's trip. As much fun as I had with my research, this is still a work of fiction and I don't pretend historically accuracy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Jack sails aboard the Mooltan, Phryne is on the Ormande heading to meet him in Colombo.

Phryne ran her hands along the firm, muscled chest, up and around his neck. They rocked with the movement of the ship. Their bodies pressed tightly together, her hands sliding up and tangling in his hair. The berth in the small quarters was barely large enough for one of them, but his strong arms encircled her, holding her safe and close. He moved to bring her under him, the full weight of him on her, his skin against hers. She sighed as he brought his mouth to her neck.

_“Phryne.”_

His feral growl set her on fire. She shifted, arching into him, trying to draw him closer, her nails biting into his back, and when he moved inside her she cried out. _“Jack!”_

Phryne woke with a start. She turned to grab a spare pillow, clutching it to her throbbing body as a small shudder ran down her spine. She smiled. What a glorious dream.

She wondered if she’d cried out loud. It was still dark, no sign of morning light yet crept through the curtain in front of the small port hole window. She snaked a hand under the pillow at her head and felt for the small, folded sheet of paper she knew was there. She’d read it so many times she needn’t be able to see it to hear his words in her head.

_“You are the world to me...I would follow you to the ends of this earth.”_

The throbbing in her core increased. She rolled onto her back in the well-appointed bed of her first class cabin and slipped one hand over her stomach and down until it rested between her thighs.

When morning came a few hours later, Phryne awoke feeling refreshed and happy.

Yesterday the R.M.S. Ormande had made its last port of call before Colombo. She had ventured ashore at Port Said, needing to stretch her legs and feel solid ground beneath her feet. While there she had visited a Mosque, having to place large baskets over her shoes before entering. Though she’d never been a fan of organized religion, she was nevertheless uncomfortable upon observing the men praying. It felt an invasion of their privacy to be sightseeing as they worshiped.

She took a ride through the native quarter and was interested to observe the married women dressed in full black with their faces covered. Afterward, she stopped in the swanky casino. She was taken by the notion that things were the same everywhere you went. The moneyed had their own existence, often served by, but separate from, the less fortunate.

Before the ship set sail again, small canoes approached with natives selling wares of every description. She watched, but did not make any purchases. It was a lovely day with a fresh breeze blowing but she was glad when they got underway again mid-afternoon. Late in the day they passed through the Suez canal. Only one week more and she would see Jack again and finally feel his arms around her outside of her dreams.

* * *

 

 Jack awoke early and sensed the ocean liner had slowed its pace. He arose and went out on deck to watch the day break. He could tell it would be a hot day. The air was quite warm already and the sun had yet to rise. At first light he could see land and knew they were approaching his destination. Filled with anticipation he returned to his cabin to pack his things and tidy the space, preparing to depart.

He wasn’t sure if Miss Fisher would have reached Colombo yet. Her ship was expected to arrive the day before his, but with ocean travel, one never could be sure of staying on schedule. Still, in hopes that she would be waiting, he had a bath and dressed with care, donning a fresh shirt and the tie he knew she appreciated.

Restless, he went back on deck to pace until the ship made its approach. A P & O motor launch was to carry departing passengers and those wishing to spend the day ashore to the port. Jack grabbed his bags and went to wait in the designated area. As other passengers gathered, Jack saw the Newtons and Enid. They spotted him and came to wait by his side. Upon noticing his luggage, Mrs. Newton lamented that he would be leaving them, looking sadly from him to her daughter.

Within the hour he was on the launch, heading for the jetty, about a mile from the boat. As they approached, Mrs. Newton commented on the ‘alarming amount of black fellows.’

“Do you think we shall be safe, Mr. Robinson?” she asked. “Those natives look quite wretched! And look at their dress! Why they are half naked!”

“I’m sure you will be fine, Mrs. Newton,” Jack replied.

“Yes, dear,” her husband said. “No need to worry yourself.”

Jack felt his heart begin to pound in this chest. Enid, who had been watching him, noticed that his attention seemed suddenly focused on a spot on shore. She followed his gaze.

“Look mother,” She said, smiling. “That woman appears safe enough.”

The woman, slight and raven haired, dressed in white from head to toe, stood calmly among the group of natives. Most of whom wore only a cloth wrapped around their waists and draping their legs. The woman held a parasol above her head and had dark, round sunglasses covering her eyes.

“How outrageous!” declared Mrs. Newton. “What is that woman thinking, standing so brazenly! Alone, amongst such savages?”

Just then the woman smiled and raised her hand, waving enthusiastically toward the launch. To her shock, Mrs. Newton saw the utterly respectable Mr. Robinson raise his hand to wave in return, his eyes blazing, a broad grin upon his face.

“Do you know that woman, Mr. Robinson?” Mrs. Newton asked, her face twisting bitterly.

“That is the Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher,” he said, proudly.

Mrs. Newton, astonished, looked back toward the figure on the shore. Enid found Jack’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze, leaning in to him.

“She’s lovely Jack,” she whispered,

“Yes,” he agreed. “She is remarkable.”

Once the launch docked Jack was impatient to disembark. He quietly wished Enid luck and farewelled her parents. Mrs. Newton sniffed in disapproval, now probably very glad to have him away from her daughter. Before long he was on solid ground and making his way through the crowd toward the love of his life.

Phryne watched Jack approach, her excitement growing. When he was finally in front of her she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him but settled for the small kiss he pressed to her cheek.

“Jack!” she exclaimed, smiling widely. She wanted to get him away from these crowds as quickly as possible. “Where are your things?” she asked. “Is there another launch arriving with your trunk?”

Jack raised the cases he carried, one in each hand.

“No,” he said. “This is it.”

“You travel light Inspector!” she said. “Good! Then let’s be on our way.”

She linked her arm through his, gripping his bicep tightly and turned him away from the wharf. Jack was so euphoric to be by her side he didn’t think to ask any questions until she had bustled them into a cab, directing the driver to the Galle Face Hotel.

“Where are we going?” he asked, suddenly aware of what was happening.

“To our hotel, of course,” she replied.

“ _Our_ hotel? Phryne, what have you done?”

“Let’s get away from these crowds to somewhere quiet, where we can talk. I’m sure you’ll be happy with the arrangements I’ve made.”

Jack wasn’t entirely sure he would be, but the thought of being somewhere quiet with her was enough to make him go along. They stopped outside a beautiful hotel situated on the sea front with large grounds of grass, flowers and palm trees. The day was very warm and walking into the large, cool lobby provided relief. The front desk attendant greeted Phryne and inquired if ‘the gentlemen would require assistance in bringing his luggage to the suite.’ Jack politely declined.

 _“The suite?_ ” He hissed into Phryne’s ear as they stepped onto the lift.

A minute later they were in a large sitting room outfitted with a love-seat and easy chair set around a small fireplace. A writing desk and chair sat on the far wall in front of a large window that provided a view of the sea. Jack dropped his bags to the floor.  

“Phryne, I can’t stay here,” he said.

“Why not, Jack? I haven’t been presumptuous. There are two bedrooms. Mine is there,” she said, indicating a door on the left side of the room. “And yours is way over there.” She pointed to another door on the opposite side of the sitting room

“It’s not that. Well, not _only_ that. I can’t afford this,” Jack said.

“But I can.”

“I would feel I’m taking advantage.”

“Of what? My wealth? It’s not as though I’ve earned it. I fell into a lucky inheritance,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“That’s not true,” he said. “We both know an inheritance is no guarantee of continued wealth. You’ve maintained yours through intelligent management and shrewd investment. You’ve earned your money Phryne.”

She was pleased by his appreciation of her acumen.

“All the more reason for me to be able to spend it as I like,” she replied. He looked unconvinced.

“People will talk,” he said.

“What people?”

“I don’t know! People!”

“What people that matter?” She sat down on the small sofa and looked up at him seriously. “Do you not want to stay with me?” she asked quietly. “You’ll have your own space. I won’t ask anything of you. I only wish to spend as much time together as possible.” He sat by her side and took her hand.

“I want that too. But..”

“You’d prefer staying some place more in keeping with your means,” she finished for him.

“Yes,” he sighed. Glad that she understood.

“All right,” she said. She rose and began collecting some of her things that were scattered about the room. “I only arrived last night and haven’ t completely unpacked. We’ll be on our way in no time.”

“On our way where?” he asked in confusion.

“To an establishment more to your liking,” she replied.

“You’re coming with me?”

“Yes.” He came to stand beside her.

“No. You are comfortable here.”

“We want to be together. You don’t wish to stay here. What is our other option?”

Jack blinked, cocking his head to the side. He started to speak, but had no argument. He closed his mouth again.

“Jack. Tell me,” she said, “if the situation were reversed and the money were yours, would you want to use it to make this trip enjoyable for me? And before you answer, I want you to consider only that question. Not how it looks, or what others might think, just what you would want to do for me.”

“Of course I would,” he said without hesitation.

“Then what is the problem? Is it that I’m a woman and you find my wealth emasculating?”

 _Damn, she could be blunt_. Did he feel it was the man’s place to provide? That was the established norm. But he had chosen a woman that never adhered to the established norm in any part of her life, and he loved that in her.

He had no arguments that weren’t truly inconsequential in the scheme of things. He wanted to be with her, she had more money than he. Either he was able to accept that or he wasn’t. He’d come all this way to be with her and he’d been aching to hold her since the moment he’d spotted her. Instead they’d spent their first moments alone together quibbling. She could see his decision in his eyes.

“Kiss me, Jack,” she said.

He reached for her, placing his hands on her hips. Her arms wound about his neck and she tilted her head up to him. He brought his lips to hers and slid his arms around her, pulling her tight to him. He felt her sigh as her body melted into his.

It was sweet relief. A cooling rain falling on parched desert sand. He drank her in like the starving earth, she quenched his thirst as he came back to life and bloomed at her touch.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne and Jack begin their holiday together.

Phryne reeled. He kissed her like no one had ever before. It was wanting, but not smothering. He fed her fire, but she wasn’t consumed. Jack broke the kiss and looked at her. She had a blissful expression on her face. She opened her eyes slowly and smiled at him.

“How do you do that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel so alive.”

The timbre of his voice, always melodic, was deeper than usual and had a rough edge she’d rarely heard before.

“Do I?” she asked.

He just smiled and held her closer. She pressed against him and ran her hands up into his hair. There was a knock at the door. Jack’s head fell back and he barked out a laugh.

“Is there no where on earth we won’t be interrupted?” he asked.

Phryne rolled her eyes and pulled back from him, running her hands along his lapels.

“I’ll take care of this,” she said. “You make yourself comfortable, but don’t go too far. And take off that jacket. I’m warm just looking at you!” She gave him a seductive look and went to the door.

Jack obediently removed his suit coat and laid it over the back of the small sofa before sitting down in the armchair. He bent to untie and kick off his shoes, setting them on the floor, to the side of the chair. She returned momentarily with a slip of paper in hand.

“It’s from Mother,” she said, waving the telegram. “I sent word of my arrival. She’s still unhappy I left so abruptly.”

She dropped the telegram into the bin and came to stand before him.

“I see you’ve made yourself at home,” she said, looking down at him, in his shirtsleeves and stocking feet, sitting comfortably in the chair. “But, there’s no room for me.” Jack took her hand, and pulled her down onto his lap.

“There’s plenty of room,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She played with his tie, smiling happily.

“So, Jack,” she said. “What drew you to this part of the world?”

“You,” he immediately replied.

“But why here?” she asked. “I would have met you anywhere.”

“Well, I read up on your suggestions. All of them were interesting. But, in reviewing the respective distances, I found Colombo would result in nearly equal trips for each of us.”

“How very practical and egalitarian of you,” she teased, as she began loosening the knot of his tie. “And in your reading, did you come across anything you very much wished to see? Where would you like to start our adventure?”

He had his arms around her. She was warm in his lap. She’d completed her ministrations to his tie, having pulled it loose and opened the top button of his collar. One hand now rested on his shoulder. The other had snaked around his neck and she was running her fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. He closed his eyes. He knew that this was what he had come for and no adventure could be better. He raised a hand to cup the back of her head and pulled her down and pressed his mouth to hers.  She responded with enthusiasm, parting her lips and allowing his tongue to slip between. Her heart raced and she tangled her hands into his lush, wavy hair.

He was always so steady, his presence so solid and reassuring. His kiss was no different. She felt safe and whole. He moved his hands down her back and then up her sides to grip her tightly, his thumb just brushing the underside of one breast. She moved in his lap, sending a current through his body.

Their kisses became more aggressive. He pulled at her bottom lip, biting lightly. When she ground hard against him, he moaned, low and wild, and pulled back from her. His pulse hammered under his skin and his breath came fast. She bent to kiss his neck, her fingers at the buttons of his shirt. He stilled her hands.

“Phryne, wait,” he said.

She sat back and looked at him. His eyes were dark and unfocused, his chest heaving. He closed his eyes for a moment, dropping his head. When he could safely look at her again, he brought his hand up to gently stroke her cheek.

“I think we should stop,” he said.

She rested her hands on his chest, one palm over his pounding heart.

“Yes,” she said, “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“ _We_ got carried away,” he corrected.

As much as she wanted him, she was glad he’d stopped them. It had been awhile since a man had touched her like that and it had felt so good. But this time it wasn’t just a man. It was Jack.

“And it’s alright, Phryne? I haven’t disappointed you?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “Why would you think that?”

“I,” he began, haltingly. “Sometimes, I wonder-” He stopped, seemingly unable to finish his thought.

“Wonder what, Jack?”

"Nothing. Please, forget I said anything.” He lightly kissed her forehead.

“I can’t just forget,” she said, leaning back in his lap to look at him. “What are you trying to say?”

He had everything he had been dreaming of within his reach. If he spoke his fear he may ruin it. But if he stayed silent, it would eat at him and most likely ruin things anyway. Either way was a risk.

“Are we on the same page here?” he finally managed to say.

She knew what he was asking. He’d waited patiently for her to get to this place and she was, in turns, thrilled and terrified to be here. This could blow up spectacularly and she'd lose everything she had with him. She got up off his lap and walked to the window, crossing her arms and hugging herself tightly. He waited, on pins and needles, for her to say something. Anything.

“If I simply wanted to seduce you, I’d have done that a long time ago,” she said, turning to face him. “And don’t you doubt for a moment that I could have.” 

She cocked an eyebrow and challenged him to contradict her. He only tipped his head in acknowledgement and smirked.

“I’m still not sure I can give you what you want, Jack, or that this will work, but if I wasn’t willing to try, I wouldn’t be here. But you already know this,” she said.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” he said.

“What else can I say?” she asked. “I can’t give you a guarantee.”

“I’m not asking for one,” he assured her.

“Then what are you asking for?”

“I’m not asking you for anything,” he said, “I’m just -” He left his thought unfinished, again.

“Jack!” she said, exasperated, “Much as I love a mystery, this once, will you please speak plainly!”

To her surprise, he smiled. She looked so irritated and irresistible, standing there, staring him down with her hands on her hips. Her hair was a bit mussed from their tussle. Her shirt was untucked from her skirt. He wondered if he'd done that. She lacked her usual, perfect composure and it made his pulse race again.

He wanted to get back to where they’d been a few minutes earlier, before he’d let his insecurities creep in.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I want to stop letting my fears get in the way.”

“Tell me what you’re afraid of,” she said, gently. “Maybe I can help.”

He stood and walked over to her, taking her hands in his and looking down at them. He took a deep breath.

“I’m afraid that, after everything, you won’t want the man that I am, and what I have to offer you,” he said, his heart in his throat.

She waited until he looked up and met her eyes.

“I _know_ who you are, and I _do_ want you,” she said. “I can’t say it any plainer. I’ve never hidden from you who I am. I’m giving you as much of myself as I can, for now, but only you can decide if that is enough.”

“It is,” he said, “for as long as you want to give it. I know there are no guarantees, but I want this. I want to try,” he said.

“It won’t be easy, will it?” she said. The whole afternoon, her excitement at seeing him again, then reeling from a moment of passion to this uncertainty, had been disquieting.

“I once heard that nothing worthwhile ever is,” he replied. “I’ll do my best to be worth your while, Phryne.”

“That, my darling, remains to be seen. Now, It’s getting late, Inspector. Shall we go dress for dinner?” she said, lightly. She’d had all she could take of these confusing emotions.

“We’ll get to that in a minute,” he said. Then he gently cupped her face with his hands and kissed her.

* * *

 

“Jack,” she sighed. “You really do have the most amazing hands," then suddenly cried out, "AAHH! I take that back! Don’t ever do that again!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” he laughed, but he eased back the pressure to the ball of her foot.

Phryne relaxed again against the cushion. She was laid out on the small sofa in their suite, her feet in Jack’s lap as he sat beside her.

“I don’t know what possessed you to climb out there in those shoes,” he said, placing his hand under her heel and gently rotating her ankle. “You’re lucky to have ended with only a sore foot and not a broken neck.”

“My clothing makes a statement, Jack,” she said, defiantly.

“Is that so? And what statement were you making this morning?”

They’d been taking a leisurely stroll along the promenade after breakfast when she’d been struck by the untamed, rocky shoreline and had climbed out over the stones to get a closer look at the waves breaking among them. Jack had followed behind, telling her to be careful, and that she’d twist an ankle. Of course, she’d ignored him.

It had been delightful to stand on the rocks and feel the mist of sea spray on her face. Delightful, until she’d slipped on the wet surface and her foot had been wrenched in a crevice between to two large boulders. Even then, she’d refused Jack’s assistance and had stoically walked back to the hotel, trying to ignore the pain.

He’d said nothing, just offering his arm to her and pretending not to notice the added weight as she leaned heavily on him.

Now back in their rooms, his tender care, caressing and massaging her foot and ankle, was helping enormously. Not to mention it was just awfully nice to feel his hands on her like this.

“It looks like our visit to the museum best be postponed. You shouldn’t spend much more time on this foot today,” he said.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine in a minute,” she objected. She didn’t want to be the cause of spoiling their plans.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll go tomorrow. We can spend today relaxing by the sea and making plans for what we will do next.”

Apparently, he’d spent a lot of time perusing books on the region and was excited to see all the things he’d been reading about. He was like a boy on the adventure of a lifetime and it was adorable. She couldn’t help but smile. It was their first full day together and she wondered how this trip would go. He liked a plan. Having read up on and listed the things he wanted to see. She usually preferred to wander, at times having a vague idea of where she was going, but more often then not, veering off in an unplanned direction and discovering something wonderful.

That he was so easy with the change to their plans today seemed to bode well. At dinner he’d talked at length about the things they could see and do, and she hated that her impetuous stunt should prevent that.

“So, you’re all right with just relaxing today?”

“Will you be with me?” he asked.

“Naturally.”

“Then I’m all right with it,” he said, allowing his hand to wander just a bit further up her calf to the hem of her skirt. She let her head drop back on the pillow and sighed.

They spent the better part of the afternoon lounging between the swimming pool and the edge of the sea behind the hotel. The Galle Face was a magnificent hotel and a premier destination. It was in the midst of the bustling sea front city, but boasted the amenities of a beachside resort. Jack found the roar of the ocean and the heat of the day very relaxing. When it got too warm, the pool offered a refreshing respite.

And best of all, he need only look to his right to see Phryne beside him, in her lavender bathing suit. The suit left little to the imagination. Over it, she wore a long, flowing beach cover, but when she lay back on the lounge, one knee raised, it fell open at the middle, exposing her bare leg to mid-thigh. He found it very distracting and had trouble concentrating on his book. But that was okay. Talking with her was much more fun.

She told him all about the trip with her father. Now that it was behind her, she could appreciate the humor of it and was an excellent story teller. She had Jack laughing. Watching her take off in that small airplane had worried him to death. Now that they were together, and she was safe, he could enjoy her tales. She was so animated and lively. He couldn’t help but notice the looks she received from men and women alike, and was ridiculously proud to be seated by her side.

He received his share of admiring glances himself, not that he’d noticed, but Phryne had. Jack looked good in a bathing costume. His sinewy arms, broad shoulders, trim waist and long muscular legs were an arresting combination. Phryne found herself glancing to her left with alarming frequency, and using the cover of her dark glasses to look him over.

When he’d returned from a dip in the water, his wet suit clinging, his hair flopping over his forehead, she’d suspected the warmth radiating from her core had little to do with the heat of the day. He shook his wet head over her, spraying her with drops of cool water, making her squeal.

Late in the afternoon they went back upstairs and retreated to their rooms to rest. For not having had much physical activity, Jack found himself surprisingly tired. He attributed it to the somewhat oppressive heat and the novelty of being able to relax so completely. Unfortunately, when he lay down on his bed, visions of Phryne swam through his head. The feel of her leg as he tended to her sore foot. Her body in that bathing costume. He found it impossible to fall asleep and spent a hour tossing about before giving up and heading to the bath to freshen up.

For dinner Phryne dressed in a clinging, deep blue, satin gown, and she was breathtaking. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. When he placed his hand at the small of her back as they entered the lift, he felt as though he’d been set on fire. His hand itched to slide over the smooth silk of her dress, or up over her bared back. It took all his willpower to pull it away.

They’d talked at dinner, he was sure they had, but he remembered very little other than her laugh and her red, painted lips. After dinner, she’d said her foot was recovered and asked if they could take a turn in the ballroom before returning upstairs. She was remembering a certain waltz with him that had left her rather flustered. If she couldn’t get him into her bed just yet, feeling his arms about her as they danced, would have to suffice. They moved together, smoothly, across the dance floor. Hands touching and releasing, eyes locked together, threatening to set the room ablaze. With any other man, this would lead to a hearty romp in the sheets and Phryne wanted badly to drag Jack up to her room and ravish him. But with Jack it wouldn’t be a simple, mutual enjoyment of sensual pleasures. It would mean much more. She didn’t know if they were ready, but if she had to wait too much longer, she thought she might combust.

Later, after a long and deeply arousing kiss, they said goodnight and retired to their respective rooms to spend a very restless night.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions build between Jack and Phryne and finally come to a head.

In the morning, Jack, fully dressed, waited in the sitting room for Phryne to emerge from her bedroom. When she padded out to head to the bath, in her black, silk, embroidered robe and bed tousled hair, it was all he could do to not scoop her up in his arms and carry her to his room. Maybe it had been a mistake to stay in such close proximity to her. He’d never wanted a woman so badly in all his life, but he doubted having distance between them would do much to dampen his desire.

He tried to hide it, greeting her with a pleasant good morning, but she’d noticed the way his eyes moved over her and had seen the blush creep up his neck. She was pleased to see him just as affected as she had been feeling lately.

The day hadn’t started out too hot, so they began by taking the half hour walk from their hotel to the Colombo Museum for the visit that had been put off the previous day. Housed in an impressive, British Colonial building the museum boasted a large range of exhibits, with ancient artifacts that helped to tell the history of Ceylon.

Phryne’s eye for detail was on display. Jack very much enjoyed seeing things from her perspective and they never lacked for conversation. Sometimes he found himself in a bit of a fog due to her nearness. Just the scent of her was intoxicating and he often found himself lost in her eyes.

Phryne could have listened to Jack talk all day. She’d always loved the warm, intimate sound of his voice and he was so intelligent and curious. His enthusiasm for the artifacts and artwork was contagious.

All day long, they seemed to take every opportunity to touch one another. Standing impossibly close while observing a work of art. Bumping together when walking. Most of the time she had such a tight hold on his arm he thought he’d be bruised, but he didn’t care. The pressure of her hand helped him keep from going insane.

Instead of returning to the hotel for lunch they decided to wander the town in search of native foods. After a dish of seafood curry with rice, they shared a local sweet custard made with coconut milk, cashew nuts and various spices. They hailed a rickshaw for the trip back to the hotel and decided another visit to the pool was in order, due to the heat.

Today, Phryne joined Jack in the water and he found himself once again distracted by the fit of her suit. Luckily there were other guests in the area requiring him to behave with decorum.

That night, their nightcap in the sitting room dissolved into an intense petting session. Phryne was beginning to feel like a school girl, in her first throes of passion. Worked into a lather, but left unsatisfied. She knew Jack was feeling it too. Each time they touched he grew bolder and more insistent. Tonight his desire was so raw she knew he was close to the limit of even his restraint, but when her hand dipped too close to the waistband of his trousers he’d pulled away, abruptly saying goodnight and retreating to his room.

Phryne lay naked on her bed, beyond frustrated. She flopped onto her stomach, pressing into the mattress to seek some relief. It was no use. He was so near, but not near enough.

He was so much fun and such good company. She liked spending her days with him, being together every evening and then waking up to find him close by. She could picture them sharing a cabin for their trip home, walking hand in hand and kissing under the stars on the deck. But if he was to continue clinging so stubbornly to propriety, she was beginning to think it impossible.

This was getting ridiculous! She was all but throwing herself at the man. If he wanted her to be his, then he damn well better take her! She was not a woman to be kept waiting!

She rose and pulled on her robe, went through the sitting room to his door. She stretched out her hand to knock, then froze, wavering in doubt. What was she thinking? Phryne Fisher did not beg.

Jack sat on the edge of his bed. He’d stripped down to only his trousers. His feet were bare and his hair a mess from having run his hands repeatedly though. One leg bounced up and down in agitation. He looked at the door, muttering under his breath. He no longer had any idea what he was waiting for. She wanted him and God knows he wanted her. He stood and walked toward the door, only to turn around and pace in the other direction.

Phryne let her hand drop. What was happening to her? Romantic imaginings and desperate longing? She hardly recognized herself; didn’t know if she was coming or going.

Was this love?  If it was, she wasn’t at all sure she wanted anything to do with it. She had decided to turn back to her room, when the door flew open and Jack stood before her, naked from the waist up, hair disheveled, eyes on fire.

He looked momentarily confused to find her standing there, then without a word, he grabbed her hand and tugged her into the room and into his arms.

* * *

 

Jack woke early. He smiled to feel Phryne curled into his side, soft and warm. He kept his eyes closed and listened as she snuffled quietly in her sleep.

The memory of last night replayed in his mind. She’d looked surprised when he’d pulled the door open, her eyes wide. A moment later they’d darkened as he pulled her to him. As soon as he felt her in his arms he knew she wore nothing under the silk robe. His hands roamed down her back to cup her firm behind, pulling her hard against him. He brought his mouth down on hers with a desperation he’d never felt before.

She’d gone so limp in his arms that he’d had to grasp her tightly to keep her upright. Reaching behind her, he lifted her from the ground and placed her gently in the middle of his bed.

That first time was a blur. He’d watched her take off her robe and barely remembered removing his trousers and climbing into the bed and on top of her. The months of wanting, and these last days of teasing anticipation, had rendered him incapable of any kind of restraint. It had been fierce, and furious, and over far too quickly.

After that first release, they’d been able to take their time and he’d rejoiced in finally being able to map the curves and dips of her body. To kiss her everywhere and touch her in the most intimate places. To completely lose himself in her.

And he’d felt powerful. Pleased to be able to excite her and make her call out for him. When she cried aloud his name, it moved him almost beyond reason.

She was a wonder. The most exciting and sensual thing he’d ever held in his hands. He couldn’t imagine it possible to have his fill of her, and wondered how any of those other men had been able to walk away with their sanity intact. Clearly, they were stronger than he.

He wrapped his arm more tightly around her and spent the next hour drifting in and out of sleep.

Phryne was having the most wonderful dream. Jack standing in his doorway, half naked. Pulling her in against his firm chest, his kiss making her weak at the knees.

He’d placed her on the bed, lust in his eyes as he’d pulled off his trousers, never looking away from her. She’d torn the robe from her body, not wanting any barriers between them. Then suddenly he was on her with a wild intensity and a need that matched her own. They’d come together violently and she’d exploded beneath him, crying out and clawing at his back.

He’d been relentless and amazing. She didn’t know if it had been the long wait or the strong bond between them that made their lovemaking so exciting, and she didn’t really care.

But, she was awake, and his arm, warm and heavy, lay across her body, telling her It hadn’t been a dream. And she remembered that their first coming together had been just the beginning.

The rest of the night had been even more satisfying. He was very generous and obviously enjoyed bringing her pleasure. It was better than she could have hoped for. By the time they finally fell asleep, she was sated and exhausted. Her limbs loose and useless. She’d barely found the energy to crawl to his side and curl into his warm embrace before sleep took her.

As she came to her senses, she ran a hand over the arm around her waist, feeling the soft brush of hair and the smooth tendons under the skin. When she reached his hand, he flexed his fingers and she interlaced hers through his. She felt him exhale a heavy sigh as he nuzzled into her neck.

“Good morning,” he growled in her ear.

“Good doesn’t even begin to describe it,” she said, and was rewarded with a low chuckle that started deep in his chest and sent a bolt of lightening through her.

She shifted, pressing back into him and was immediately informed of his growing desire for her.

“You too?” she asked as she turned to face him. “How wonderful.”

She wrapped one leg over him and ground against him until he moaned and pulled her on top of his body.

“You will be the death of me, woman,” he said, before she stopped his mouth with hers.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, food. Any thoughts on that?” he asked.

They were still in Jack’ s bed and judging by the rising heat it was close to mid-morning.

“I expect it will be necessary, eventually,” she replied.

She lay sprawled across his bare chest while he drew his hand lightly up and down her back. His stomach rumbled loudly.

“Sooner, rather than later, I think,” he said.

“Aren’t I enough for you?” She teased, lifting her head to look at him.

“You’re more than enough, but if I’m to keep up, I’ll need to eat.”

“I hadn’t notice you falling behind, but, if you insist.” She rolled over and got out of bed, looking around for the robe she’d tossed aside last night.

Jack sat up to watch her. She moved around his room completely naked and he felt the familiar prick of desire returning. He got out of bed and grabbed her from behind, pulling her to him and running his hands over her soft warm skin.

“Jack!” she sighed, leaning back against him. “I thought you were hungry.”

“I am,” he said. “If you don’t mind, breakfast will just have to wait.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne and Jack continue their trip as their relationship intensifies.

By the time they left their rooms they’d missed breakfast altogether and went to find an early luncheon. Jack was ravenous and Phryne enjoyed watching him eat, as she always did. She’d often thought the passion with which he approached food was indicative of how he might pursue other sensual pleasures. After last night, and this morning, she happily knew that to be true.

Lunch concluded, they decided to visit the Colpitty Race course to take in some horse races. The Colombo Turf Club was located in the affluent Cinnamon Gardens neighborhood, home to the areas cinnamon plantations. The race course was frequented by tourists and wealthy locals alike. It had it’s own pavilion and a club house next to the grand stand.

Jack sought Phryne in the crowd. He’d left her to go find them refreshments and was having some difficulty locating her again among the oversized hats some of the women wore.

Finally he spotted her. He frowned.

Her back was to him and she appeared to be in animated conversation with a well dressed man. He was tall, with a thin mustache. He wore a well-tailored, white suit with a green silk cravat and a Panama hat.

Phryne had said that clothing could make a statement. Jack considered what statement this dandy was trying to make. Was it that he was an ice cream cone?

He looked down at his pedestrian suit and well worn brown shoes. He kept them polished, and in good form, but the years of use were obvious. He’d never thought much about his manner of dress before meeting her. His choices had more to do with being appropriate for the job, conveying the right balance between the authority and approachability he needed as a detective.  Apart from his formal wear, most of his wardrobe was entirely appropriate for his line of work, and not much more than that. Though he did feel that he dressed more carefully than some in his position.

What did his own wardrobe say? He looked every bit the sturdy and reliable Detective Inspector that he was. Not very exciting, he thought glumly.

The man Phryne was talking to looked much more appropriate standing by her side then he ever could. But money and social class hadn’t seemed to be a criteria in the other men he knew she’d been with. He pushed that thought aside. He really didn’t want to think about her other men.

Regardless of who she had been with or was talking to today, she had chosen, now, to be with him. He held his head up and walked toward her with more confidence than he felt.

“There you are. Jack, this is Henry Neilson,” she said, introducing her companion.

“Jack Robinson,” he said, extending his hand. The man gave Jack the once over while shaking hands.

“Henry was just telling me about his new Gipsy. He’s been having quite a time with her,” she said.

Jack nodded, confused. He had no idea what she was on about.

“It’s right off the line and a step up from my old moth. Lighter weight, faster, longer range. Improved in every way!”

“Ah,” he said. An airplane.

“Do you fly, Mr. Robinson?” Neilson asked. 

“No, Mr. Neilson,” Jack replied. “Miss Fisher is the only pilot between us.”

“Henry is looking to sell his plane, Jack,” Phryne said, linking her arm through his and looking at him significantly.

“Is that so?” He felt he was missing something

“Yes,” Neilson said. “I picked it up intending to fly to England, but find I’m not cut out for it. Would much rather relax on board a well-appointed ocean going vessel. I changed course and flew down to catch a ship out of Colombo. I’m hoping to unload her before I set sail.”

“What do you think Jack?” Phryne asked.

“About what?”

“The plane. Isn’t it a grand idea!”

“You want to buy his plane?” Jack asked, finally catching up with her. “Don’t you already have one?”

“Not anymore,” she said. “I sold mine when I decided to sail back home.”

Jack wondered what it must be like to be able to buy and sell airplanes on a whim, as both Phryne and this new man seemed able to do. It boggled his mind.

“So, should I get her?” she asked again.

“Why does it matter what I think? You should do what you want.”

“But it affects you too.”

“I don’t see how.” And then, suddenly, he did. “You’re not proposing we _fly_ back to Melbourne?”

“I’d have to get her home somehow.”

Jack was speechless.

“Perhaps I’ll leave you two to discuss this,” Neilson said, giving them a polite nod before stepping away.

“But, Phryne,” Jack said, once the man was out of earshot, “we’re set to sail home in four days.”

“Yes, but luckily we’ve yet to finalize our booking, I had them looking for adjoining cabins for us and expected to hear back later today. So you see Jack, it’s serendipity!”

Adjoining cabins. So that’s why she’d insisted on making the arrangements. A few days ago that thought might have terrified him, but today? Two weeks at sea, with her, in such close quarters. It was very enticing. The idea of long days in the air, where he couldn’t even talk to her, much less touch her, was not.

“I’m surprised you’d consider this again so soon, after all you went through with your father,” he said.

“But this time I’d be with you! And I know you’d love it Jack! Why, it’s like riding a bicycle faster than you ever thought possible, but in the air, among the clouds. I’d so like to show you. And it’s a much shorter trip than the one I took with Father. We’re already half way there.”

She had her hands on his lapels, her eyes were alight with excitement. Not really half way, he wanted to point out. They were on the wrong coast and would have to make their way clear across India in order to fly home. He was about to tell her it was impossible, but she had such an excited, child-like look on her face.

“We could leave right away, tomorrow even. We could see a bit more of Ceylon. Then hop across to Calcutta and from there it’s just a matter of retracing my steps,” she said.

She made it sound so easy. Covering the whole of India, a trip of some 1200 miles, was a ‘hop’ to her. He frowned.

“But, if you’d rather not,” she said, after he hesitated in his answer. She looked a bit deflated. He sighed.

“If that’s what you want to do, Phryne, it’s alright with me,” he finally said.

She made a small, excited squeal, then hugged him tightly.

“I’ll go negotiate with Neilson. Be back in a jif,” she said, hurrying off.

Jack smiled, shaking his head. What a pushover he’d become. He wondered if he’d ever be able to deny her anything.

When she returned to his side, she was beaming. She’d managed to make what she felt was an excellent deal for the plane, pending an examination of it later today.

“I have a feeling it was more than a wish to cease flying,” she said. “I fear Mr. Neilson may have fared poorly in the recent unpleasantness with the financial markets in America.”

The ‘recent unpleasantness’ seemed an understatement to Jack. From what he’d been reading, those events would have far reaching consequences that were just beginning to be felt around the world.

“But you are not worried by that?” he asked.

“Well, of course I am,” she replied. “But I’ve been careful with my investing and have much of my money where I feel it will be quite safe. In fact, I think there may actually be some opportunity for gains if one is smart about it.”

Somehow, he knew she’d be smart about it, and in any case he had no doubt she’d always find a way to land on her feet.

“So, we will be taking to the air then?” he said. “When do you want to begin the next part of our adventure?”

“If the plane checks out, I don’t see why we can’t leave Colombo tomorrow. We could fly to Kandy for a day. I hear there are some lovely things to see there, and then begin our trek toward India the next day. What do you say?”

“I’ll follow your lead, Miss Fisher.” She linked her arm through his and smiled at him affectionately.

“Have I told you how wonderful I find it to have such an agreeable traveling companion?”

“Is that what I am?” he asked, inordinately pleased that he’d made her so happy.

The plane met with Phryne’s satisfaction and they made arrangements to fly out in the morning. By the time all was settled, it was getting late, so they returned to their hotel for a light supper before retiring to their rooms. With dinner they’d shared a lovely bottle of wine and Jack was feeling loose and relaxed.

He was watching her and thinking about the next few days. They had no set plans and didn’t know where they’d be staying on any given night. It was possible that this was the last night they’d be in such close and private quarters. In the lift, he looked down at Phryne. He wanted to take her in his arms right then, but they were not alone.

Phryne could feel the tension in Jack. It enflamed her. She leaned into his side and let the back of her hand brush against his. He returned her touch, keeping his arm still but sliding his hand along hers. She responded by pressing more firmly against him and letting her fingers play along his. When they stepped off and the lift doors closed behind them, he took her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. He opened the door to their suite and stepped aside to let her pass though.

Once inside, she closed the door behind them and turned to find him standing very close, blocking her path into the room. He placed his hands on her hips and gently pressed her back against the door. She yielded to his touch as he leaned into her, and brought his knee between her legs, pressing his thigh against her core as his hands moved up over her.

Phryne was a little taken aback by how quickly her body was responding to him. He was so determined and assured in his movements, it made her feel small and slightly out of control. She dropped her head to avoid his eyes. Jack gently caressed her face, then lifted her chin and waited patiently until she looked at him.

His eyes were blazing embers and it sent a shiver down her spine. Her heart raced about in her chest like a small animal caught in a trap. She was the prey and he sought to devour her. And she wanted to be devoured.

As he leaned in, she closed her eyes and she felt his lips brush lightly against hers, the tip of his tongue sweeping slowly across her upper lip. She sighed, parting her lips as he pressed his mouth firmly to hers and his tongue continued it’s exploration. He tasted like wine and Jack and she felt herself giving over to him, her arms hanging useless at her sides.

He moved his hands along her body, encouraging her arms up to where he captured her hands above her head, holding them firm as his body pressed against her harder, the door solid at her back. His kisses became more urgent and she responded in kind. He kept her hands trapped with one of his while his other hand moved over her body, cupping one firm breast as he kissed along her neck. She writhed against him, desperate now to touch him and struggled to free her hands.

He held them fast in one hand, pulling away slightly so the other could begin working at the buttons of her blouse, kissing along the path as it opened to him. Where ever his lips touched her skin she felt a searing heat, when he pushed her blouse open to place his mouth on her breast, over her camisole, she arched into him, offering more.

He grew impatient, and released his grip to use both hands in his quest to undress her. Pushing her blouse off her shoulder and letting is slip down to the floor. His mouth moved along her collarbone tasting her hot, silken skin. He bit down firmly on the soft flesh, causing her to cry out briefly. She smiled, hoping he’d left a mark.

She ran her now freed hands over the taut muscles of his back, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close, trying to relieve the growing ache at her core. It enflamed him further and he ground against her, taking her mouth again in a passionate kiss. When her hands moved down over him to grip his backside and pull him tight to her, he moaned and lifted his head to look at her, rocking gently against her.

What she saw warmed her to her bones. His eyes were deep and searching, as though he were trying to memorize every inch of her face. They moved over her, briefly lighting on her lips before settling again to look into her eyes. They locked onto hers and she couldn’t look away. Did not want to look way. He pulled his body away from her, freeing her from the door, but didn’t move to kiss or caress her. She found it hard to breathe, her lungs seemingly incapable of taking in air.

“I love you, Phryne” he said.

She let out a breath and felt a lump rising in her throat as her eyes threatened to spill over. Everything about his man overwhelmed her. He was her friend, and companion; confidante and partner. Her lover. Her Jack.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, hoping this kiss would say everything she couldn’t, then she took his hand and led him into her room.

She said nothing as she began to carefully undress him. Lifting his jacket from his shoulders and sliding it off. She folded it neatly and placed it on the back of a chair, then went to work on the rest. He watched silently as her delicate hands take hold of his and remove the links from his cuffs, setting them on the dresser beside her own jewelry. She took off his waistcoat and shirt before sitting him down in the chair and kneeling to untie and remove his shoes.

She moved slowly and gently, taking great care with each item. She slid her hands under his singlet, and he helped her pull it off, over his head. She kept her hands on him, running them up over his hard abdomen and muscled chest. She stood, bending over him to kiss his mouth then took hold of his hands, pulled him up onto his feet and over to the bed.

Phryne’s hands moved to his trousers. Hooking the index finger of each hand inside the waistband, she ran them around him, circling from front to back then front again where she turned her attentions to the buttons there. His breath was coming faster and she thought she could hear the pounding of his heart, but maybe that was her own.

She sank to her knees and slid his pants slowly down to his ankles, leaning in to plant a kiss to his hip bone, then helping him to step out. He reached down to pull her back to her feet, clasping her to him and into a searing kiss. She reeled and pulled away, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed.

She stepped back, watching him. His eyes followed her hands as they found the fasteners of her skirt and it fell away. Next she slid the straps of her camisole off her shoulders and let it fall free, slipping to the floor. Finally she removed her pants and stood before him, completely uncovered for him to gaze upon. Her heart pounding in her chest.

Jack reached for her and she went to him, straddling his lap, taking him in and wrapping her arms tightly around him. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and rocked her gently in his lap.

“ _Oh, Phryne_ ” he groaned as he began to move faster, holding her tight and pressing her to him.

 _“Jack”_ she whispered, strained and choked. She took his face in her hands, looked in his eyes and in a stronger voice, she said, “I’m yours.”

The tears came then and she allowed them to roll freely down her face. She gave herself over to him and he took her, fully and completely, as he poured all of his body and soul into her in return.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne and Jack's travels continue in a companionable and romantic manner as they enjoy the advantages of being together, anonymous, and away from familiar society.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In these travel chapters, I'm glossing over the finer details of the airplane's capabilities while consolidating and embellishing some of the things they might encounter, so I hope no one is expecting factual accuracy! 
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely comments. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

Jack woke just as dawn was breaking. Phryne slept soundly by his side. He crept carefully from the bed, and slipped from the room. He dressed quickly. He wanted to return before she awoke.

He walked from the hotel in the cool morning air hoping to find a merchant opening his shop for the day. He didn’t need to go far before he came upon a little man hanging his wares out on racks on the sidewalk in front of his small store. When Jack stopped to look, the man nodded and motioned to the display of silk shawls he’d just finished arranging.

“Is the sir interested?” he asked in heavily accented english. Jack nodded and looked over the rainbow of embroidered silks.

He came across a shawl of brilliant scarlet. It was elaborately embroidered with shimmering silver thread in a swirling pattern and small birds on the wing floated near the deep red fringe at its edge. He picked it up and felt the smooth silk slip through his hands.

The red was the exact shade of the color she wore on her lips. The ethereal swirling pattern and the soaring birds felt right too. He exchanged money with the little man and rushed back to the hotel and to her room. She still slept. He went to his room to hide the shawl among his packing. His plan was to give it to her on her birthday, which was less than a week away.

It was still early and he didn't want to wake Phryne, so to avoid making noise, he decided to put off his packing until she awoke. He removed his suit coat and shoes and sat down on the bed, switching on the lamp and picking his book up from the night stand. He’d read most of a page before realizing he wasn’t taking in a single word. His mind was elsewhere.

Tossing the book aside, he returned to Phryne’s room and quietly lay down on the bed beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist. He closed his eyes, listening to her breathe.

He must have dozed because when he opened his eyes again the sun had fully risen in the sky.

“Wake up Phryne,” he murmured into her ear. He kissed her neck gently, trying to prod her to wakefulness. “It’s time to get up.”

“No,” she moaned, childishly. “I want to stay here.”

“Sorry, love,” he said. “But you’re the one that made the plans. We need to get to the airfield and we didn’t get any packing done last night.”

“Well, that’s on you for distracting me,” she complained. “ It’s your fault as well, if I’m too exhausted this morning to move.”

“I don’t recall hearing these complaints last night,” he said, snuggling in closer to her and continuing to place light kisses along the back of her neck. She smelled divine.

“That’s not helping either if you want me out of this bed,” she said, smiling, as she reached behind her and placed a hand on his hip. She was surprised to find him clothed. That had her more awake and she turned to look at him.

“Why are you dressed?” she asked. Her expression was one of puzzled annoyance.

“I told you, we need to get going,” he said, leaning up on one elbow. “And I’ve gotten a head start.”

“I don’t see what the hurry is,” she replied, drawing her finger along the buttons of his shirt slowly.

He realized that for all his talk about getting up, he’d done little to physically encourage her to move. He was still laying by her side, running his hand over her hip and thigh. She had a just awoken, bed tousled look that he found irresistible and he was overcome by a sudden desire to kiss her.

Jack was beginning to be slightly alarmed by the intensity and frequency of his need for her. He’d gone so long stealing himself against her flirtations and allurements. Now that he’d touched her and they’d shared intimacies, his body wanted to make up for the earlier deprivation.

Perhaps flying home, rather than being on board a ship, where they’d have ready access to a bed anytime they wanted, was a good thing. It might serve to calm his ardent desire until he was able to behave more reasonably.

Either that, or the inability to touch her all day would leave him so desperate it’d be impossible for him to keep his hands off her, as seemed to be the case now. He forced himself to get up off the bed and move away from her.

“If we don’t get going, we may miss our window for flying out,” he said. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about flying?”

“I can’t very well do that now, can I?” she huffed, “I’ve already bought the damn plane!”

“Then I suggest we get a move on, Miss Fisher.”

* * *

 

They’d packed quickly, consolidating only what they’d need into two small cases, making arrangements to have everything else shipped home. By the time they made their way to the airfield they were only slightly behind schedule.

Phryne spoke with the mechanic and made a visual inspection of the aircraft. She ran her hand over the skin of her new plane. It really was a beauty.

One of the improvements over the older models was the expanded luggage locker. It sat behind the cockpit and was larger than on previous models. It allowed room for their cases, a tarp, some bedrolls, bottled water and an extra canister of fuel. Phryne knew there was the chance they might need to land unexpectedly due to inclement weather or mechanical issues and she liked to be ready. When all preparations were complete, the plane was pushed out to the airstrip.

“You’ll need these,” Phryne said, handing Jack goggles and a pair of earplugs. “It can be rather loud.”

She looked ahead to the horizon. It was a clear blue day with little wind. A perfect day for flying. She climbed into the back cockpit, sliding in easily, flipped the ignition, and signaled Jack to pull the propeller to start the engine. Once it was turning, he climbed into the seat in front of her. He was not quite as graceful as she had been getting in. The cockpit was tight and he had to wiggle down to fit properly, but once settled there was ample room for his legs.

“Are you ready Jack?” she called to him over the roar of the engine.

He turned in his seat, watching as she pulled the leather aviator’s cap down over her sleek, black hair and fastened it under her chin. He gave her a broad smile. He was a little nervous and rather excited for his first ever flight in an open-air biplane and was once again struck by the enormous changes she’d brought to his life. A little more than a year ago, all of this would have been a fantastic fantasy. Even now he hardly believed this was his life. He was not the same man he’d been before meeting her. Life now was so much more fun and he’d be forever grateful to her for that.

“Ready as I’ll ever be!” he called back.

Before he knew it they were bumping along the ground at an exhilarating rate. His stomach dropped as the ground fell away and he closed his eyes for a moment to feel the rush of the wind on his face.

He looked out over the side of the plane. Things on the ground were rapidly shrinking. Buildings looked like match boxes and the earth and trees blurred into indistinct expanses of greens and browns. They flew relatively low. This first trip was a brief one. Kandy, their destination for the day was a little over 60 miles, as the crow flies. The plane was capable of flying at around 100 miles per hour, so, although Phryne wasn’t pushing it to it’s top speeds just yet, they should be able to cover the distance fairly quickly.

Jack found the trip enlightening. He understood now what Phryne loved about flying. The thrill of lifting off from the ground, the rush of the wind, and the views! He’d never experienced anything like it. Ahead there was nothing but clear blue sky and when he looked down he could see small villages and roads that twisted like snakes through seas of green and brown. The only sound was the drone of the engine, muffled by the earplugs she’d provided.

As they left the more populated areas the ground appeared bright green as groves of trees took over the landscape. Dotted along the way he saw what he imagined were small farms. Areas that looked as thought they’d been carved out of the wild land.

Soon, more buildings began to dot the ground and they flew over a wide, brownish river. Before he knew it, they were making their way down to a small airstrip. Jack marveled at Phryne’s ability to set the plane down. He didn’t know how she did it. Once they got close to the ground, the nose of the plane blocked his vision and prevented him from seeing the ground before him. She sat behind, and so could see even less. She must have been landing the plane by faith and instinct alone.Once again he found himself wondering if there was anything she couldn’t do.

Their plan was to spend the day at Kandy, make an early night of it, and leave at first light. They would travel at least 400 miles the next day, stopping to refuel and then crossing into India. In fact the schedule they’d set would be a bit grueling for the next several days. They would stop no more than a night at any destination, until they reached Singapore, where they would take a few days to relax before continuing their journey home.

Phryne had wired ahead to reserve a suite for them at the popular Raffles Hotel. She and her father had stayed elsewhere on her earlier trip, but she’d seen the grand landmark hotel and had hoped to stay there someday. Their tentative schedule had them arriving by her birthday, and she was very much looking forward to spending it there with Jack.

The lodgings in Kandy were not grand, but perfectly suitable. Jack had insisted that he cover the costs of most of the hotels along their route. Phryne had paid for the Colombo lodgings and his only travel costs now were helping with fuel and oil for the plane. So far he’d spent far less on this trip than he’d planned for, and he was feeling as though he was taking advantage of her generosity.

As there was little chance they’d come across someone who knew them, Phryne convinced Jack to drop the pretense of separate rooms. In truth, he hadn't needed too much convincing.  They settled their luggage into the small room, and had a brief washing up before heading out to see the sights of Kandy.

 

“Is it an actual tooth?” Phryne asked.

“So they say,” replied Jack.

He was consulting a guidebook they’d picked up at their hotel. They were touring the golden-roofed Temple of the Sacred Tooth, home of Ceylon’s most important Buddhist relic, a tooth of the Buddha. The relic was heavily guarded, but the room it was open to tourists and devotees. An elaborate door decorated in gold and silver marked the entrance and elephant tusks stood sentry beside the chamber.

The tusks were enormous and Jack wondered out loud how large the animal that produced them must have been. The relic itself could not be seen. It was kept within a gold casket which contained six more caskets of diminishing size within.

“There is a festival each summer to honor the relic that apparently goes on for days,” Jack said, continuing his perusal of the guidebook. “There’s dancing and grand processions with elephants...”

Phryne leaned in to read over his shoulder.

“Sounds fascinating!” she said. “We’ll have to return to see it someday.”

He smiled at her easy reference to a future trip with him.

They linked arms and made their way through the temple and out of doors. They walked along the banks of Kandy Lake. A man made lake created in 1807 by the last Sinhalese king of Kandy. In the middle there was an island on which was built the Royal Summer House and across from the temple was the Royal Bathhouse that was used by the king’s wives and concubines.

Somewhere along the path they had gone from linking arms to holding hands. Jack was beginning to see advantages to traveling by air rather than sea. On board a ship they would be Mr. Robinson and Miss Fisher and would need to be careful to appear in a manner acceptable of unmarried couples.

Here, no one would know them, or their circumstance. They would not be staying long enough to worry about anyone’s perception of them or for people to speculate about their relationship.

She had stopped to admire a lotus flower and was bent slightly at the waist, her hair swinging forward as she lifted her sunglasses to get a better look.

“Isn’t it lovely, Jack?” she asked.

“Beautiful,” he replied, barely glancing at the flower.

When she turned to smile at him, he pulled her to him and kissed her. Simply because he wanted to. He didn’t care who saw them or what anyone might think.

“I’m sorry,” he said after releasing her. “I couldn’t resist.”

She noticed that he didn’t look the least bit sorry, and she wasn’t either.

“No need to apologize, Jack,” she said. “Feel free to act on your impulses anytime.”

She wiped the lipstick from his mouth, then wrapped an arm around his waist and felt his go around hers as they continued their walk around the lake.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in a similar delirious haze. They wandered through the bazaar, sampling local delicacies. Phryne loved how open Jack was to trying everything. There was plenty of rice, fish and dried fruits, but he was particularly fond of one dish they tried. She wasn’t sure what it was called, but it consisted of salty pieces of lightly spiced, fried dough and was very tasty. She wondered if she’d be able to have Mr. Butler recreate it for him when they returned home.

Having walked a great deal and eaten their fill, they returned to the hotel to retire for the evening.

When Jack came from the bath, he was dressed for bed in a pair of deep blue, cotton pajamas.

“I thought we agreed to pack only what was necessary,” she said,

“And I did,” he replied. She approached and began toying with the buttons on his top.

“Really?” she said as she began undoing the buttons. “And you thought pajamas were necessary?”

He placed his hands on her hips. He loved watching her delicate fingers work the buttons on his shirt.

“I thought you’d want to sleep," he said, his voice growing husky.  "After all, you'll need your wits about you in the morning.”

She ran her hands under the shirt, along his chest and up to his shoulders to push it off.

“Tomorrow I need my wits,” she said. “Tonight, I need you.”

She untied the sash of her dressing gown and slipped it off. He didn’t think he’d ever grow tired of watching the lovely, silky things she wore slither from her body. He picked her up and set her gently down on the bed and climbed in besides her.

“It will be my very great pleasure to give you anything you need.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne and Jack's travels continue with some harrowing moments, romance and eventual smut.

They were up early and off at first light, wanting to put in several hours and at least reach the border of India. The day started out much as the previous one, with good weather and clear views. Jack enjoyed flying, but with nothing required of him, it could get tedious. He found himself dozing, though he tried not to, feeling it was unfair to Phryne who had no such luxury. His esteem for her only grew with each hour they traveled. It couldn’t be easy to maintain the concentration needed to keep them in the air.

They made the short hop over the Bay of Bengal mid-morning. Flying over water was nerve racking for Jack, but luckily it didn’t take long to sight land again, and from there they followed the coast, keeping the bay to their right.

They’d been flying nearly four hours before they reached their refueling stop. Phryne decided they should continue, and put in as many miles today as possible.

“Are you sure you’re alright to go on?” Jack asked Phryne as they went to find a bite to eat.“We’re in no great hurry.”

“I’m fine Jack, but would you rather stop for the day?”

“No, don’t worry about me, You’re the one doing all the work,” he said.

“I’d just as soon keep going. You never know when bad weather will hold you up, so it’s best to take advantage when you can.”

He could see the logic of that, so after they’d eaten and the plane was refueled they were on their way. The hours crept by, the scenery unvaried.  Jack found his mind wandering. Thinking about the previous night, well any of the recent nights really, was a welcome daydream. He had closed his eyes and was in the midst of a particularly good memory when he felt Phryne tap his shoulder.

He turned and she pointed ahead to something on the ground that had drawn her attention. Following her gaze, he saw a large herd of elephants gathered around a lake. Phryne flew low to get a closer look, but not low enough to spook them.

It was a large grouping, several dozen at least. There were a few young ones among them, standing close to their mothers. Some were in the water bathing while others drank from the shore with their long trunks or milled around nearby, kicking up dust. It was by far the highlight of the trip so far. They were magnificent. Considering how large they looked from the air, Jack could hardly fathom what they must look like on the ground.

As spectacular as the sight was, it was Jack’s reaction that pleased Phryne most. He was awed by the enormous beasts and kept glancing back at her with the wide-eyed, excited grin of the adventure loving boy he must have been. That she was able to bring him here and show him these things, things he’d only read about, made her happy.

In fact this whole trip had made her unspeakably happy. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. Once they’d broken through the wall that was keeping them apart, things had been so easy between them. She hadn’t given much thought to what that might mean for the future, but now, with all this quiet time in the air, niggling fears began to creep in.

How would they navigate their relationship once back home in Melbourne? It was one thing to be lovers here, in neutral settings where they knew no one and had no responsibilities, but would he be this unguarded at home? The way he’d kissed her by that lake, so unexpected and spontaneous. It had thrilled her to the bone. And later, in bed...

She had to keep her mind from going there right now, or she’d lose her focus entirely!

She wondered how this would affect their work together. Would he still want her in on his investigations or would he become overprotective, like Hugh with Dot, and try to keep her away? And what of their physical intimacy? She couldn’t see him being comfortable spending the night in her home, then waking there to face her household staff. That troubled her. The idea of sneaking around with him was loathsome, besides, she couldn’t imagine he’d do that either.

Would he be thinking of some kind of permanent, respectable arrangement between them? That was a very frightening thought indeed.

She stared at the back of his head for awhile. His hair had gotten longer while traveling and she watched as the wind whipped it around. He had gorgeous hair, especially when it broke loose from its pomade, and fell over his forehead, sweeping over those intense blue eyes and long lashes. She wanted to reach out right now and touch him.

 _Dear God_ , she thought. _I love him_.

She knew it was true. Had known for some time, but always in a rather abstract sort of way. But now it was real and so intense. He made her very happy. And she desired him. More than any man she’d ever known. Her body actually craved his. He was like a drug.

This was no good. She couldn’t need a man like this - couldn’t need anyone like this. What had she been thinking!

Just then a stiff wind caught the wing and the little plane was buffeted about making her snap to attention, any errant thoughts whipped from her mind as she brought the plane under control again.

The Gipsy was a sturdy plane, but didn’t handle turbulence well, and flying in crosswinds was extremely challenging. She tried changing altitude, and moving inland a bit to get out of the worst of it, but that only succeeded for so long. It was clear the weather was taking a turn. She began to look for a place to put the plane down.

Once she saw a suitable spot, she began her descent. Jack couldn’t help but notice the change. The flight had been quite smooth, then grew a little choppy. Now, the plane was bouncing rather frighteningly. He glanced back at Phryne. She had a look of steely determination on her face, but not fear. That reassured him and he turned to face forward again, so as not to distract her. The last thing she need worry about right now was him.

Phryne struggled to keep the plane steady. She didn’t dare let go of the stick for even a moment. Her plane was badly out of rig and required constant attention to maintain level rudder pressure.

It was a tailwheel aircraft, and directionally unstable on the ground. If she neglected the rudder even momentarily upon landing, or allowed the least bit of lean, they could catch a wing and find themselves cartwheeling over the ground. She steadied the plane above the spot she’d chosen, raised the nose to landing altitude and stared straight ahead using her peripheral vision to help her track straight. They touched down and it was going fairly well until, in her adrenaline induced state, she waited a bit too long to stall, causing the plane to gallop dangerously along the uneven ground. All she could do now was hang on and ride it out. Eventually they came to a stop, shaken, but unhurt. She turned to Jack as she began to pull herself from the cockpit.

“I’ll take care of securing the cockpit covers. You grab what we’ll need from the boot. We may have time to find shelter before the rain hits.”

Jack followed her instructions wordlessly, hopping from his seat and going to pull the tarp and some rope from the boot. He looked around, marveling for a moment at her ability to find a large enough spot to land amid all the vegetation. He spotted a huge tree not far away and ran to toss everything at its base.

The tree was enormous. It had to be nearly 40 feet tall, with thick roots, more like trunks really, that spread down from the branches to the ground. He found a hollowed out spot between two of the larger roots. Phryne joined him and with her help they strung the rope between two large branches and threw the tarp across. The roots helped to hold it away from the tree and once Jack had secured the bottom with a couple of boulders, he climbed out to tuck the top of the tarp into the crook of the branches. It would be sufficient cover, providing the wind didn’t pick up further.

After that they scrambled about collecting twigs and broken branches that could be used for a fire later if needed. They gave up, hoping they had a sufficient collection, once the rain came. They dropped their kindling under the tarp to keep it dry, and crawled in to get out of the rain.

“Well, that was exciting,” she said, leaning back against the trunk. She ran her hands over the tangled roots. “This is an interesting tree. Reminds me of a Moreton Bay fig.”

“I believe it is a type of fig. It’s called a Banyan tree,” he said. “This one is relatively small. They can cover an entire acre.”

“Well, it certainly came in handy today,” she said. “I’m sorry about this.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, you have no influence over the weather.”

“But it was my idea to keep flying today. We could be tucked up safely in a hotel right now.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and settled in at her side.

“Where’s the fun in that,” he said. She smiled gratefully at him.

“I have to say Jack, you’re very good in a crisis. We make a good team.”

“Yes we do.”

She leaned into his side and they sat in silence listening to the rain. Before too long, Phryne dozed off. Jack laid his head back and closed his eyes for awhile. When they woke, the rain had stopped. They stepped outside. The air was once again calm and the sky was clearing.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” she said. “But I’m afraid we’ll have to stay here for the night. It will soon be too dark to try to fly out. I’m so sorry I got you into this, it’s all my fault.”

“Stop that Phryne,” he said. “I’ve slept rough before. It’s fine. You go grab the bedrolls from the plane.”

Jack went in search of more wood for a fire, finding some fairly dry pieces tangled in the tree roots. They’d need at least a small blaze, not just for warmth, but also to discourage animal visitors in the night. He came upon two large fallen branches and used them to resettle the tarp, providing more space inside and positioning the entrance further from the trunk so that he’d be able, later, to build the fire a safe distance away.

Phryne had gone to fetch a few more things from the plane that they might need. Her lighter, the bottled water and a torch. She stopped on her way back to watch the sun setting. Jack came to stand by her side, took her hand in his and they watched as the bright orange ball slipped below the horizon.

Once they were back inside their makeshift tent, he settled against the trunk. She pushed in to sit between his legs and leaned back against him as he wrapped his arms around her.

“By the way,” he said. “In our rush to find shelter, I didn’t have time to tell you. That was an impressive bit of flying you did there. I have no idea how you managed to land the plane.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll admit now that I was a bit concerned for awhile there.”

“I couldn’t tell,” he said. “You were cool as a cucumber. Where’d you learn to fly anyway?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“I guess that confirms my assumption that a man was involved. Yes, I want to know,” he said, adding quickly, “Was it Compton?”

“No, it wasn’t Lyle,” she said. “It was at the start of the war. My friend Vic. Charlie’s brother? He was a fly boy. Rather reckless in his youth. We took some highly unnecessary risks during my aviation education.”

“And this Vic, he was an ‘old friend,’ I’m guessing.”

“Yes,” she said simply. “You could call him that.”

“I’ll have to forgive him that, as I have him to thank for your remarkable skills and the opportunity to travel in such an amazing manner.”

“Are you enjoying it? I wasn’t really sure if you wouldn’t rather be sailing.”

“I am enjoying it. And I’ve already been sailing. This is like nothing I’ve experienced before. Those elephant for one! They were spectacular. I saw some whales from the ship on the way over. I can’t decide which animal is the larger.”

“You never told me much about your passage, Jack.”

“It was unremarkable. Apart from the whales.”

“Didn’t you make any friends? Or did you spend the entire time with your nose in a book?”

“You do know me,” he laughed. “I did make one friend. A lovely young woman traveling with her parents. They were seated at my table for dinner,” he paused. “Her mother wished for us to marry,” he said matter of factly.

Phryne’s head snapped around to look at him, eyes wide.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Enid and I,” he said, conversationally. “Her mother wanted us to marry. Thought I was quite a catch. Very keen on having me for a son-in-law.”

She could tell he was trying to wind her up, and tempered her reaction into one of indifferent curiosity.

“And the daughter?”

“Unfortunately, not of the same mind,” he sighed.

“Unfortunate for whom?” She said, abandoning all pretext.

“Her mother of course.”

“I should hope so.”

“Enid was a bright girl. She could tell I was unavailable,” he said, smiling affectionately at Phryne and giving her a squeeze. “Besides, she had plans of her own that didn’t involve marriage.”

He told her briefly of Enid’s plans to join the Egyptian expedition and the brief friendship they’d forged aboard ship. Phryne found Enid’s plans to escape her overbearing mother impressive.

“She sounds rather lovely,” she reluctantly admitted. “And I’m glad you found a friend, though I’d have preferred it have been an older gentleman that shared your fascination with moldy coins.”

“I’ll make note of that for the next time I travel,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

She snuggled back down into his arms. She wondered silently what Jack’s current views on marriage were. They rarely spoke of it, and when they did, it was usually her, reiterating her aversion to it.

His own marriage had fallen apart, causing him great pain. Perhaps he had no interest in going down that road again. But what if he did? Was he passing up opportunities for something he longed for? Opportunities she’d given little thought to, like the lovely Concetta Fabrizzi and this Enid person? There would be plenty more like them, eager to find a man like Jack. How long would he be happy with her non-committal ways? Might he come to regret her?

“Hey,” he said. “Where did you go?”

“What?”

“You seemed far away just now,” he said. “And you’re shivering. Come here.”

He released his hold on her to remove his overcoat, then pulled her closer, between his bended knees and laid the coat over them like a blanket. “Once you’re warmed up I’ll go light a fire outside.”

She didn’t want to tell him that her shivering had very little to do with being cold.

“We could light a fire right here,” she said, running a hand along his leg. He rumbled out a low chuckle.

“Let’s get settled first. It could be a long night.”

She shrugged and leaned into him, letting the heat from his body warm and calm her. Once she’d stopped shivering, he went outside to start that fire, hoping he had enough wood to last through the night.

While he was gone Phryne set out the bedrolls. She spread one out on the ground and placed the other on top, making one large sleeping surface. She gathered his overcoat to her and inhaled deeply, then laid it over the blanket for an additional layer. When Jack came back, he raised an eyebrow at the cozy bed she’d made.

“Body heat Jack,” she said. “It will be important for us to stay warm.”

“Of course,” he said smiling.

The fire was letting off enough heat to help warm the shelter and they were very comfortable, even a little too warm. He stood and push the top of the tarp open a bit to reveal the darkening night sky, then slipped under the covers with her and pulled her to him. She ran her hands over him and then under the hem of the sweater he wore, pushing it up.

“I believe skin to skin contact is more effective when in a survival situation.”

“Have you much experience in survival situations Miss Fisher?” he said, sitting up and pulling the sweater the rest of the way over his head.

“Well, there was that time in Madagascar, with Captain Compton...” “

That’s enough,” he said, stopping her mouth with a kiss.

She wound her hands around his neck and pressed into him. He kissed her deeply, his lips soft and yielding, his tongue hot and sweet in her mouth. _By God_ , the man could kiss, and she’d kissed her fair share of men. Jack was different. He was tender, but not hesitant. Wanting, but never demanding.

He’d taken his time about kissing her. Sometimes she’d thought he never would. But once he had, that first time, and every time since, his kiss seemed to say _‘I am yours, take what you will_ ’ and it rocked her to her core.

It went on for awhile, his hands roaming over her. When they finally broke apart his eyes were dark and soft and focused entirely on her.

“Now, it’s my turn to ask you something,” she said.

“Anything,” he answered.

“Who taught you to kiss like that?”

He looked surprised. He laughed and lay down on his back.

“I honestly don’t know how to answer that,” he said.

She pulled herself up, sat cross-legged above him and began to unbutton his shirt. He watched her, but made no move to stop her.

“Alright then. Your first kiss. Surely you remember that?”

“My first kiss,” he said, thinking as he sat up and let her push the shirt from his shoulders. “Sally Reynolds. Eight years of age. A peck on the cheek at a church picnic. Your turn,” he said, tugging on her sweater.

“That’s very sweet Jack, but I meant your first real kiss,” She said as she removed her own sweater and got to work on the buttons of her blouse. Once it was removed, he ran his hand up her stomach and cupped her breast over her camisole.

“Once I’d touched your lips, I’m afraid I forgot all others,” he said.

She shook her head and gave him a dubious look.

“Nice try, Inspector, but I don’t believe you.” She took his hand and planted a kiss on his palm before placing it on his own chest.

“I don’t kiss and tell?” he tried.

“Come on Jack! This can’t be that hard.”

“Alright,” he relented. He settled back, his hands behind his head, looking up at the sky.

“Allison Wellstone. I was twelve, she was fourteen.”

“An older woman Jack!” she interrupted.

“Do you want to hear this?” he scolded.

She shut her lips tight and gave him an apologetic look. He continued.

“She was my cousin’s neighbor and I’d been flirting with her all summer. Well, flirting in the way a twelve year old does, which meant I took every opportunity to annoy her. I think she took pity on me and when summer ended, she took me behind the shed in her parent’s garden and gave me my first proper kiss.”

“Pity, my ass,” she said. “I’ll bet you were an adorable twelve year old and she was dying to kiss you all along. Brazen hussy,” she teased.

“I don’t think so Phryne. I was rather skinny and awkward.”

“Well, what happened next?” She leaned forward eagerly, her elbows on knees, chin resting on her hands.

“Nothing,” he said. “My cousin moved from that house and I never saw her again. I was heartbroken. Until a month later, when Angela Davidson moved to our school. She had the most beautiful long blond hair and brown eyes,” he said dreamily.

“Blond, huh?” she said, laying down by his side and letting him pull her into his chest.

“Yes, I was young and stupid,” he said. “I’ve since found I much prefer brunettes. They’re far more exciting and dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“Oh, yes. Absolutely wicked creatures.”

“And you like that?”

“I adore that,” he said.

“Good,” she replied. “And now, I believe something was said about skin to skin contact?”

She reached for his trousers and ran her hand over him, feeling him awaken to her touch.

“Wicked woman,” he said, smiling and pulled her to him, covering her mouth with his. They surrendered to a frenzied rush of hands and lips, hurrying to remove any remaining clothing. He pushed her underneath him, rolling on top and pressing his body into hers, his knee between her thighs. She cried out.

“Am I hurting you?” he said, alarmed, lifting himself off of her.

“No,” she sighed, pulling him back to her. “Don’t stop.”

That set him ablaze and he moved with a renewed urgency. He was all over her and she was rendered senseless. His hand slipped between her thighs, over her soft curls and a finger slid along her core. He groaned, loudly.

“Do you know what that does to me, Phryne?” he growled in her ear. “To know that I can do that to you. That I can make you so wet.”

He pushed a finger inside her. In and out, brushing against the spot that sent her reeling.

“Jack,” she sighed, pressing into his hand.

“ _Yes._ Say my name,” he said, roughly.

He took her breast into his mouth, drawing the nipple between his teeth and biting gently while his fingers continued their attentions below. She writhed beneath him, a flickering flame, her body contracting around his fingers as she climbed. The tensions of the day had wound her tight. The long hours of flying and harrowed landing. Now the world was closing in around her, shrinking to a small pinprick.

“Let go, Phryne,” he breathed. “Come for me.”

And she did. Crying out his name as she hit her peak. Before she had time to settle again, he was inside her. Thrusting deep and filling her. She grasped at his shoulders trying to pull him closer. Spreading her legs for him and meeting his every thrust, urging him on.

It was ecstasy, and when she finally felt him spend himself in her, she shattered, shuddering around him, her body pulsing. He rolled to her side and pulled her close. She could feel his heart beat against her chest.

“God, how I love you,” he exclaimed, breathlessly.

She raised her eyes to him. His head was back, his eyes closed, his breathing labored.

“I love you, Jack,” she said quietly.

He looked at her, stunned. Then his face split into such a joyful grin that she felt suddenly shy, and had to bury her head back into his chest. She thought her heart would splinter into a million bits, but, he held it securely in his hands, keeping it whole.

“Thank you,” he whispered.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is happy. Phryne's afraid.

Phryne woke early. She didn’t need to open her eyes to recognize what lay below her head. She could identify it by scent alone. Jack’s sweater.

She remembered him getting up, after they’d made love, to tend to the fire outside. He’d stopped first, to fold the sweater and slip it under her head. She’d watched him walk from the shelter, marveling again at how beautifully he was built.

Now she looked over to where he lay beside her. The granite features of his face were softened in sleep and the early light of day. His jaw was relaxed, the angular planes of his cheekbones blunted. His long eyelashes rested on his cheeks, dark at the lid then fading to burnished gold as they curled at the tip.

Even his ear held fascination for her. She resisted the temptation to take the soft lobe in her mouth and nibble on it.

Whatever was she going to do? She was sinking fast. Drowning in her love for him. How would she survive without him swallowing her whole?

Suddenly she had to move. She slipped from the covers and dressed quietly, heading outside to check that the plane had made it through the night safely.

Jack woke alone. He looked outside, searching for Phryne and saw her leaning over the side of the plane, her head in the cockpit, her lovely ass wiggling in the air behind her.

What an incredible night it had been. Who would have thought their most passionate lovemaking yet would come not in the large, down covered bed of a fancy hotel, but on a humble blanket, spread over dirt, under an open sky. He could still hear her voice in his head. “ _I love you, Jack_.”

He dressed quickly, wanting to get to her side. When he picked up his sweater, he held it to his face and inhaled her scent. He’d hoped, when he’d placed it under her head, that it would retain her essence, so that he could smell her as they traveled today. It would be torture to be unable to touch her.

He knew she wanted to start early this morning, and he was feeling a need to find some food, so he began to pack up their things. He’d just finished with the bedrolls when she came back.

“You’re up early,” he said, going to her and taking her in his arms to kiss her. She let him, but he could feel her resistance, and she pulled away quickly.

“I thought it best we get as early a start as possible,” she said, moving away from him and looking around as though in search of something. His heart sank a little, but he continued with the packing up.

They worked together in silence to dismantle the shelter and stow everything back in the plane. That done, she turned to him.

“What happens when we get home, Jack?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean with us. What happens?” She sounded on edge.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking,” he replied, cautiously.

“I want to know how this works,” she said. “Where do we go, you and me, when life moves back in? We can’t fly around like this forever,” she cried, a bit hysterical, her arms flailing about.

She heard what she had said, but her head screamed something different. There she said; ' _Why can’t we fly around forever. Please stay with me, Jack, so it can be like this always. Just you and me.'_

If her emotional outburst startled him, he didn’t show it. He came over and placed his hands on her shoulders, waiting for her to calm. She raised her head to meet his eyes.

“I don’t know how this works,” he said, honestly. “And I’d rather not worry about that now. I’m happy here with you, and I just want to be happy. Can’t this be enough for now?”

“Ha!” she laughed bitterly, pulling back from him. “How do you like that!? You, ready to live in the moment, take things as they come, and me fretting about the future. What have you done to me!”

“Phryne..” he began.

“No,” she stopped him. “No, you’re right. It is enough for now. It has to be, because thinking about what comes next will drive me mad. Let’s go.”

“Phryne!” he said again, reaching for her.

“No! It’s okay, Jack. We have a lot of miles to put in today, I shouldn’t have started this. Please, let’s just go.”

She climbed up into her cockpit. He helped start the engine and then took his seat in front of her. A few hours later they made a quick stop to eat and refuel, and then flew on. Phryne said she wanted to get as far as they could today, to make up the lost time, but Jack knew it was also her way of keeping her distance from him, and it broke his heart.

The light was fading when they reached Calcutta. It had been their longest day in the air yet. Over ten hours and close to 900 miles. They found a small hotel near the airstrip, ate and fell into bed.

Phryne lay with her back to him, her body tense.

“Phryne,” Jack said, quietly, he didn’t try to touch her, “do you want to talk about this morning?”

“No,” she said, brusquely. Then she turned her head slightly, saying more gently, “thank you Jack, but I’m tired. And I was off my game this morning. I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“I’m not upset, I just don’t want you to be,” he said.

“I’m not darling,” she said, too brightly. “I’m fine.” He could see that she wasn’t. “I just need to sleep, it’s been a long day.” She turned her head away.

“Of course,” he said.

He lay down beside her and listened until her breathing became regular and he heard the now familiar snuffling sound that meant she was deeply asleep. His arms ached to hold her, but he settled for resting a hand gently on her hip. He’d never felt so lonely in her presence, but if she needed space, he would try his best to give it to her.

“Please Phryne,” he whispered. “Please, don’t be afraid to love me,” and willed his heart not to break into pieces.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne and Jack have some issues to resolve as they try to move their fledgling relationship forward.

The next day was much the same. They flew for hours, and she remained distant. Jack didn’t know how to reach her.

He suggested they take a walk to see this new city they’d landed in, she said she was too tired, so he went out alone, thinking maybe she just needed some space. After all they’d been in constant, close company for over a week now. It was understandable she might need some breathing room.

But, she was falsely cheerful and so withdrawn. He knew in his gut that something was very wrong. He vowed to be patient. She would come to him when she was ready.

His patience turned out to be short-lived. After an awkward supper, where they barely spoke, they were sitting in their hotel room in silence, again. She was pretending to read, but hadn’t turned a page in ten minutes, her eyes darting around the room furtively. She looked like a trapped animal. He was ready to force a confrontation. He slammed his own book down.

“This can’t go on,” he said, more angrily than he’d meant to. “Tell me what you’re so afraid of!”

“Who says I’m afraid?” she asked, in the aggravating, breezy tone she’d adopted when speaking to him these last two days.

“Aren’t you?”

“Perhaps a bit concerned, but not afraid,” she lied.

“What’s concerning you?”

“Well,” she began, stiffly. “I know you won’t like to hear this, but I think you may have grown too attached to me.”

That stung.

“I see,” he said, coldly. “If I’m too attached, I don’t see why it should concern you. That would seem to be my problem.”

“I care for you,” she said. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

She ‘cared’ for him now? What had happened to ‘ _I love you, Jack_ ’, where had that gone?

Her patronizing tone infuriated him. He clenched his jaw, trying to control his building frustration. He knew she wanted to provoke him. If he let her, he’d get no honesty from her. The detective in him wanted to be calm and get his confession, but he was hurt and now, increasingly angry. He bit back.

“That’s kind of you,” he said. “But I can take care of myself. I knew what I was getting into, and I’ll survive when it’s over.”

“So, you _are_ waiting for it to end! I knew it!” she said, accusingly. She was on her feet now. He stood too, to restore some balance.

One minute he’s too attached, the next she’s angrily implying he has a foot out the door. He faltered, gaping like a fish.

“You expect I’ll throw you over at any moment,” she spat. “That’s what you think, isn’t it?

“No, I...” he stammered.

She was a dirty fighter. How had she turned this on him?

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I don’t _want_ you to say anything. I _need_ you to tell me the truth. Do you think I’m going to leave you?” she demanded.

He’d been wanting her to talk to him, but he wasn’t prepared for this. He had been planning to assure her that when she wanted to move on, he wouldn’t try to make her stay. That he could let her go. He’d practiced it in his head until even he almost believed it was true.

He’d thought that’s what she needed to hear. Now, he had no idea what was in her head. He composed himself and replied calmly.

“I don’t think you will ‘throw me over,’ you’re not that cruel. But yes, eventually, I think you will tire of me. I hope it’s a long way off, but whenever it happens, I promise I’ll try not to make it hard for you.”

Even to his own ears, it sounded insincere and pompous. She huffed, giving him a bitter, triumphant smile.

“Then perhaps we should end this now, before it gets any _harder_ for either of us,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcastic disdain.

“Is that what you want?” he said. The room had become overly warm. He moved away from her and sat heavily down onto the bed.

“No!” she cried. “Of course it’s not.”

His head began to throb and he scrubbed his forehead.

“Phryne, I’m confused,” he said, honestly. “Do you still want me?”

“Yes, I want you,” she said, but she sounded angry. “I love you. I just don’t know what to do with that.”

“Why must you do anything with it? It’s enough for me that you do.”

“But I don’t believe it is enough for you. I think you want things. Things you deserve, that I don’t know if I can give.”

A moment ago he’d wanted a confession, now he wasn’t sure. In the span of a minute she’d gone from light and breezy, to condescending and angry, and now, apparently, to despair.

“What is it you think I want?” he asked, tentatively.

“I think, if you’re being honest, you’d say you want commitment and a life together. Perhaps even marriage. If you’re being honest.” she repeated, as though she doubted he could be.

“Then let me try to be honest,” He said. “I want you. Do I want you to myself? Yes. Would I like a life with you? Again, yes, for as long as I can. I don’t know that I require marriage. I think I could be happy without it,” he paused, this was the hard part. “But, what about you? Don’t you think you could be with me? Even for just a little while?” he asked.

“I’d like to,” she replied. “But, what does it mean for me? What happens to me if I do?”

“I don’t understand.”

He seemed genuinely confused and concerned for her distress. She didn’t know how to explain herself, how to tell him that she didn’t know what she was doing.

The only other time she’d thought herself in love, she had turned into someone she barely recognized to try to please her lover. But that wasn’t love, and that man had been horrible and possessive. Eventually she had clawed her way free and been able to find herself again.

This was different. Her love for Jack was not misguided and she knew he would never hurt her, that he loved her. And it was so powerful she knew it would change her. She suspected it already had.

She’d fought hard to become the woman she was. She didn’t want to lose that. Yet, there were times when she wanted to give her whole self to him. Would she disappear completely into him and cease to exist? She couldn’t reconcile these conflicting emotions and it had left her paralyzed. Unable to go back or move forward.

He was looking at her with fear etched all over his lovely face.

“Talk to me please,” he implored her. “I love you, Phryne. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

Her Jack. He was so sweet, and so beautiful. How could she hurt him like this?

“I don’t know how to love you,” she said, tears spilling from her eyes. “Not without losing myself and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“I don’t want you to lose yourself, and I don’t want you to change for me,” he said gently.

“I know that,” she said, testily, wiping her eyes angrily with the back of her hand. “This isn’t about you.”

“But it is about me,” he said. “You seem to think I want something from you that I don’t, that I never would.”

“I thought you wanted my love. Am I wrong?”

“No,” he admitted. “You’re not wrong about that. But I don’t want to own you. I only want your love if you want to give it to me. I won’t take it from you, and it doesn’t have to mean forever. When you no longer want me, I’ll go.”

“Stop saying that!” she cried. “That doesn’t make me feel better. Don’t you understand?”

She could no longer imagine her life without him. She needed to know he’d be there, to help her figure this out, not that he was ready for it to end.

Jack didn’t understand. She was so angry and unhappy. And nothing he said seemed to help. He threw his hands in the air in frustration.

They dropped to his lap as the truth hit him. _She doesn’t want to love me. She wants to be free. Not someday. Now._

It made sense. She’d been pulling away ever since the other night. She just didn’t know how to tell him and he’d ignored all the clues. Because he hadn’t wanted to see them.

It was like a physical blow, knocking him sideways, spinning him into oblivion. He could see no way back.

“I’ve made you miserable,” he said flatly. “It’s my fault. I couldn’t leave you alone.”

He could hardly breathe.

“But, you can understand why, can’t you, Phryne?” he said. “I have so much love for you. What was I to do with it if not give it to you? But I never wanted to make you unhappy, Phryne. Never that.”

He’d always known he’d lose her, but he hadn’t seen this coming. Hadn’t imagined that she’d find loving him so painful.

He didn’t know if he could take this. To hold her so briefly, and have her snatched away. And he’d so confidently told her he would leave whenever she wanted. What a fool. He’d thought he’d have more time.

He wanted to cry. Completely fall apart and let the misery bury him, but that would only make her feel worse. His breakdown would have to wait until he was alone.

“I’ll get my own room,” he said, forcing himself to stand.

She watched, as he collected the few things he’d already unpacked and placed them back in his case. At first she didn’t understand what was happening, once she did a cold panic set in.

He was leaving her.

What had she said or done that would result in this? She searched for words. Any words to make this stop.

Jack clicked his case shut, picked it up and walked over to where she stood. He needed her to hold him, to heal him, but that wasn’t fair. He’d already caused her enough pain. He bent and pressed his lips to her hair, breathing her in one last time.

“Forgive me, my love,” he said.

She made a strangled sound, somewhere between a sob and a hysterical laugh. His knees buckled. He thought he’d drop, but his legs held, and he turned to go.

He’d made it two steps when he felt her small body slam into him, her arms wrapping tight around his waist, her head coming to rest on his back.

“No.”

It was all she could manage for the moment, but it was enough. She heard a thud as his case hit the floor, his hands suddenly on top of her own, gripping them as though they were his lifeline. Neither of them spoke or moved or drew breath. Finally, she found her voice again.

“You can’t go,” she said.

“You want me to stay?” he asked, hopefully.

“When did I say I didn’t?”

“You’re so miserable,” he said. “I thought...”

She moved in front of him and took his hand.

“I don’t know what you think you heard, but I don’t want you to go. What a mess I’ve made of things!”

She led him to the bed and sat beside him, she was trembling too much to feel steady on her feet. She held his hand in both of hers, tracing the veins on the back with her thumb. He watched her, taking in her tender touch and letting it soothe him.

“You know what the problem is Jack?” she said quietly, “The problem is, for some time now, when I’ve been afraid, or unsure of how to proceed, I’ve turned to you for help. This time, I couldn’t do that, and without you, I’ve mucked it all up. When I realized how much you mean to me, I was frightened. How could I tell you that?”

“I wish you had,” he said. “I’ve had some experience with those feelings.”

“Then tell me,” she said. “How did you get through it?”

The memory made him smile.

“As it turns out, I had some help,” he said. “There was this infuriatingly wonderful woman that wouldn’t be ignored. She forced herself into every aspect of my being, even after I asked her to leave. Honestly, she wouldn’t let me alone. And soon enough I couldn’t stay away. I didn’t want to stay away. No matter how much she frightened me. She was worth the risk to my heart.”

He brushed a stray tear from her cheek. He wondered what would have happened back then if she’d been more like he, and had given him the space to walk away, as he’d been ready to do for her tonight. He shuddered at the thought.

“So this is your fault after all,” she said, “You see, I didn’t have my best friend to talk sense back into me. He was too busy being kind and accommodating. I need you to be more bull, and less china shop, Jack.”

He nodded in agreement. “I’ll try.”

“And please stop waiting for me to walk away. It only makes me think I have a way out, and I don’t. Nor do I want one.”

“And you’re okay with that?” he asked.

“You’re doing it again. What does it matter if I’m okay with it? I think I rather have to be. And it’s not so horrible really. Not if it means I get you.”

She laid her palm upon his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.

“You already have me, but I worry that’s not enough. What do you mean you fear you won’t be yourself? Can you be happy with me, and only me?”

“Are you asking me if I need other men? Because if you are, then no, that’s not what I mean. You satisfy me,” she said, matter of factly. He reddened furiously.

“Seriously, Jack?” she laughed. “After the other night, you have forfeited any right to blush at the mention of my sexual satisfaction.”

The look on her face had his heart rate rising. He cleared his throat. They were getting off track, he wanted to get everything out in the open tonight.

“Well, what did you mean, then?”

“I guess I meant that I’ve never really worried about where someone else fits into my life before. I’ve just done what makes me happy, with little regard for others. But how do I do that, now that my happiness seems to be linked with yours? It’s all so complicated.”

“I know you like to live life your way, but I take exception with you saying you show little regard for others. That’s not true. Look what you just did for your father, for one. You go out of your way for others all the time, Phryne.”

“But that’s different.”

“Why? It’s not really, and this doesn’t have to be that complicated. I won’t ask you to give up your life, I just want to be part of it,” he said. “And please don’t ever think you have to change for me. It’s you I want. Not some watered down version of you that lives only for me. I couldn’t stand that.”

“That’s good,” she said. “because if you’ve envisioned me in a housecoat, bringing you your pipe and slippers, you’ve got some serious disappointment ahead.”

“I’d like to see the housecoat, but I don’t smoke a pipe,” he said.

He put his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. She laid her head on his shoulder.

“Are we going to be ok?”

“I think so,” he said. “But, we need to work on our communication.”

He felt her hand moving slowly across his back.

“Our verbal communication, Miss Fisher,” he said smiling.

“Of course, Inspector,” she said, wrapping her arms innocently around his waist with a sigh.

"Then, in an effort to improve on that, can I tell you what I need, Jack?” she asked, shyly.

“Please do.”

“Can you hold me tonight? Just hold me?”

“Of course,” he replied. “And is it alright if I never let go?”

“Yes."

They fell asleep curled into each other’s arms, holding fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a tough one for me. I hope I pulled it off. 
> 
> I often use music as inspiration or writing prompts and I need to credit two songs for helping with these last couple of chapters.
> 
> To channel the confused and frightened Phryne I wanted to write, I used the song "Baddest Blues" by Beth Hart. 
> 
> "If Only" by Gin Wigmore, helped me with both Phryne and Jack in trying to show how they each think they won’t be able to make the other happy in the long run, and how that fear keeps getting in their way.
> 
> Again, thanks for all the kudos and wonderful comments. Knowing others are enjoying it really motivates me to keep going with this story.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a difficult two days and a confusing night. Phryne and Jack are feeling happy and looking forward to the next leg of their trip where they plan to spend a few days relaxing together.

The first sound Jack heard was her voice.

“Good morning, darling,” she purred.

He was only vaguely aware of what was happening, but it felt fantastic. As he awoke he could feel her hair sweeping over his skin as her lips feathered kisses along his chest, then moved up his neck. He sighed. This was a more than wonderful way to start any day.

Her tongue flicked lightly in his ear before she sucked his earlobe into her mouth and nibbled gently. He reached for her. Suddenly, she bit down hard. His eyes flew open.

“Ow! What are you doing!” he gasped.

“Waking you up,” she said, poking him in the ribs like a small, annoying child.

She was up on her knees, sitting back on her heels, looking down on him. She wore his pajama top and an impish grin, a welcome change from the pain and confusion of last night. Something about seeing her in his top, he wore the bottoms, made his heart flutter. She was so mercurial and her every variation enthralled him.

“Is it alright for me to admit that you confound me, Phryne? he said.

“Absolutely,” she said. “I rather like that.” She bounced up from the bed, much to his disappointment.

“I’m feeling energetic today. I think we should push on. I’d like to make Singapore as quickly as we can. Then we can relax a day or two before our final jaunt toward home.” Jack would have happily stayed right here with her all day, but she was restless, needing to move. Her eagerness to be on their way appeared more a result of a release in tension, than a desire to separate herself from him. She was happy and playful.

It felt like he had his Phryne back.

To think he’d come so close to giving her up, based on a misunderstanding. He knew he’d dodged a bullet. She’d been right. Waiting for her to leave him was no way to have an honest relationship. He knew now that it had been more a matter of self-preservation than the magnanimous gesture he pretended it to be, and pretty ineffectual at that, considering it nearly destroyed him.

Her birthday would be here soon. If they got to Singapore ahead of it, he might have time to find someplace really special to take her. He wanted to make that day one she’d remember. They should get going. He should be getting up, but couldn’t take his eyes off of Phryne.

She was moving around their small room, wearing his clothes. The top was large on her, falling just past her hips, with the sleeves hanging down over her wrists and hands. She kept pushing them up out of the way as she bent to pick up her clothes off the floor. She had a tendency to leave things laying around. Probably due to the fact that she was used to having other people pick them up.

“I think you missed something,” he said.

“Where?” she looked around on the floor.

“Right there,” he pointed. “Behind the chair.”

She leaned over the arm of the chair, her back to him, bending at the waist. The shirt crept up. He smiled.

“It’s right down there...” he said. “I’m sure you can reach it.”

She leaned further.

“I don’t see anything,” she said.

“No? My view is spectacular,” he said, sitting up in the bed.

She straightened, tossing a glare over her shoulder, feigning annoyance

“Tsk. Behave yourself Jack,” she said, turning away to hide her smile.

“Come here,” he growled.

“We don’t have time,” she said. But she’d dropped her handful onto the chair and turned toward him. That voice. And the way he was looking at her. It was as though he’d thrown a rope over her and was physically pulling her in. “We really need to get moving,” she protested weakly.

“I’ll be quick,” he said.

She stopped, putting her hands on her hips.

“Is that suppose to entice me? Your seduction techniques need work,” she said, turning away again.

Jack laughed. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling her around to him and bringing her to stand between his legs. He gripped her tightly at the hips.

“Have I told you, Phryne, that you are an incredibly alluring woman?” He said in mock-seriousness.

“That’s better,” she said. “Keep going.”

“All those months, working by your side and watching as you’d perch upon my desk and cross your legs. The scent of your perfume was intoxicating. I was so enchanted. I’m amazed I was capable of coherent conversation.” He smiled mischievously up at her, his eyes dancing, while sliding his hands along her sides.

The friction of the rough cotton as it bunched under his hot, strong hands electrified her. She bit her lower lip, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“Tell me more, Inspector,” she said, her voice growing slightly rough and breathless.

“You’re so elegant and lovely, in anything you wear, but right now, in my shirt...I’ve never found you more bewitching,” he said in a low, rumbling tone that cut through her like a knife. He began to swiftly unbutton the top. His tone was teasing, but his body, and his eyes, betrayed him.

It was a heady feeling to be so ardently desired. She felt delightfully dizzy.

“Now you’ve got the hang of it,” she purred, smiling widely.

“I want you, Phryne.” His hands pushed the shirt off of her. “I have to have you, now.”

He flipped her down onto the bed, causing her to giggle with excitement as he rose up over her. He dove at her neck, attacking the area just below her ear, where he knew she was particularly sensitive.

“Oh, well done, Jack,” she sighed, happily.

“Enough talking,” he said.

* * *

 

She lay sprawled across his chest, feeling happy and relaxed. He looked relaxed too. His head back on the pillow, eyes closed. His arms were wrapped around her and lay heavily on her back. She stretched, languidly.

“Well, I must admit, you were right,” she said, looking up at him.

“I’m insulted,” he said, lazily, not bothering to open his eyes. “It wasn’t _that_ quick.”

“That’s not what I meant!” she laughed, “Honestly Jack! What has gotten into you today? And where is my dour Inspector?”

“Am I dour?”

“To the untrained eye, perhaps.”

“But not yours? Did you think me severe when we first met?”

She thought back to those first moments, when she’d forced her way into his crime scene. She’d tried using her usual coquettish charm on him but he’d seemed unimpressed, and she’d quickly abandoned all pretext. That still hadn’t stopped her from flirting, just a little.

“I found you to be serious, but I was intrigued,” she answered.

“Of course you were. I’m a male.”

“Now _I’m_ insulted!” she cried. “How indiscriminate do you think I am!”

“I’m sorry,” he laughed. “I’m teasing you.”

“Yes, you seem to be doing a lot of that this morning. I’m not sure I know who you are!” From the laughter in her eyes, she didn’t seem to truly mind.

“I’m the same man, you know. But you bring out something in me I thought I lost long ago. And I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed it,” he said, raising his head to look adoringly at her.

She was glad she couldn’t see her own reflection at the moment. She was sure that it was ridiculously besotted. She swallowed the lump rising in her throat.

"I think we had better get moving, before you distract me further,” she said.

“You find me distracting?” he asked, grinning smugly.

“You know I do,” she replied, “Now, we need to get up. And this time, I mean it!”

They made good progress the first day, but were delayed the next. Their best intentions having been thwarted by a new found euphoria that had settled over them and kept them in the bed well beyond noon. Phryne blamed it on ‘ _a haze of love,_ ’ which made Jack unreasonably happy.

Singapore, however, lay less than three hours away, so they made the start despite the late hour. Phryne pushed the plane to its limits and they managed to touch down just as the sun began to set.

“Now, don’t be mad at me,” Phryne said as they left the airstrip and got into a cab. Jack gave her a quizzical look. She leaned forward to give instructions to the driver.

“Raffles Hotel, please.”

“Phryne?”

“I know you wanted to be responsible for our accommodations along the way, but tomorrow is my birthday, and I’ve dreamed of staying at Raffles for the longest time. Ever since I saw it when I passed through with Father.”

“So, for several months?” he said, amused. “Yes, that is a long time to wait to fulfill one’s dreams, Miss Fisher.”

“You’re not cross? You’ll stay there?”

“Will you be staying there?”

“Why yes Jack, I’ve already wired ahead to make the arrangements.”

“Then that’s where I’ll be too.” She sat back and leaned against him, quite pleased with herself.

They walked into their suite. She’d really outdone herself this time. It was incredible. The most luxurious space Jack had ever seen. They even had their own private bath.

“Phryne!” he exclaimed. “How much is this costing you?”

“If a girl can’t treat herself for her birthday, when can she?” she shrugged.

Jack lived simply, and didn’t resent it, but he couldn’t deny that he liked the finer things in life. Good food, fine whiskey. He’d also always found himself attracted to elegant women, and that taste extended to his surroundings. Who was he to complain if she wanted to throw a little of her money around. She knew what she could afford and would never be overly frivolous.

They were both famished and went to find a quick supper after dropping their bags in the room. When they returned and went to unpack, he noticed her wince slightly as she bent over her case.

“What’s the matter.”

“Oh, nothing really. But I think it’s a good thing I’ll have a few days away from that plane. All the flying is taking its toll. I’m just a bit stiff and sore.”

He came behind her to rub the back of her neck and shoulders. She was a bundle of knots.

“Why don’t you have a warm bath,” he said. “I’ll go see if I can find something for your pain.”

* * *

 

Jack looked up from his book when Phryne emerged from the bath. She’d had a nice long soak and was feeling sleepy. She went over and sat down on his lap.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Much.”

HIs hands went to her warm shoulders and he gave them a little squeeze, gently kneading the muscles behind her neck.

“You’re still hard as a rock. Here," he pushed her up to her feet. "Let’s get you on the bed. I enquired at the desk and they sent up some ointment that might help.”

He led her over to the bed and pulled back the covers so she could lay down. She let her dressing gown slip off onto the floor and crawled into the bed.

“On your stomach, please,” he said.

He arranged a pillow under her so she could rest comfortably, pulled the covers up to her lower back and then sat down by her side, taking up a small, glass jar from the bedside table. As he opened it a smell of menthol and camphor oil wafted into the air. He used two fingers to scoop the balm from the jar, rubbing it between his palms to warm it.

“What is that?” she asked, once the scent reached her.

“It’s called Tiger Balm. The man at the desk recommended it highly to help with sore muscles. Apparently it’s an old, local recipe. We’ll see how it compares to one of Mr. Butler’s remedies.”

It struck Phryne that it was the first time either of them had mentioned anyone back home, she wondered momentarily if that was significant, but then felt Jack’s warm hands at her shoulders and the thought flew from her head.

“That’s nice, Jack,” she sighed, twisting to look at him. “You do have the most amazing hands.”

“Shh,” he said, “Relax and be still now.”

Jack worked the balm into her neck and shoulders, gently kneading, until he felt the muscles loosening, then moved down along her spine.

She had beautiful skin. He knew she was surprisingly strong for such a feminine looking woman. He could feel the muscle definition. He watched as she yielded to his touch, feeling the knots loosen, as her body went slack. Soon he could tell she was asleep, but he kept up his attentions, more gently now, caressing her simply because he wasn’t ready to stop touching her. Eventually he knew he should let her sleep, so he pulled the covers over her, kissed her gently on the cheek, and went to clean his hands.

When he returned he sat in a chair, facing the bed and watched her. He could have sat there all night, doing nothing else, but remembered his plans for a special birthday surprise and decided now was the perfect time to go in search of that. She was sleeping soundly and would most likely not wake for hours. He wrote a hasty note, and placed it on the nightstand by the bed. Then he grabbed his coat and hat and quietly crept from the room.

Jack walked out into the evening air. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. She’d already found herself a fancy hotel. The dining room would be perfectly suitable for an elegant birthday dinner, but he wanted something more than just a nice dinner. He knew she loved dancing and parties and had a knack for finding decadent, intimate places hidden from general sight. His expertise lay in shutting such places down.

He made discreet inquiries at the hotel but found himself misunderstood and directed toward the area opium dens. That was not what he’d had in mind. He walked to the river and then turned back. He didn’t want some ordinary bar or restaurant. He wanted to show her a good time, show her that he could be fun and throw caution to the wind as well as she could.

Frustrated, he returned to the hotel and stopped in the bar for a drink. The place was fairly crowded with hotel guests looking for an evening of socializing. Jack took a seat at the quiet end of the bar, near the door, unaware that his entrance had drawn attention and he was being observed.

Baz had watched the newcomer to the bar with interest. He was dressed plainly, for traveling, and wore a long trench coat with a fedora set firmly atop his head. He didn’t look like the usual visitor to an establishment of this type. It wasn’t that he looked out of place, the man had presence, a quiet confidence, that would make him able to fit in to any setting with authority.

He watched as the overcoat and hat were carefully removed and set on the next chair. The man sat and spoke with the bartender. Not overly friendly, just polite and direct. A moment later a glass of whiskey, neat, was set before him. Baz was intrigued. When it became clear the man was not waiting on anyone, Baz approached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to post the next chapter or two this weekend. Thanks for reading.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack makes new friends.

As he nursed his whiskey, Jack became aware of someone sitting down on the stool beside him.

“Good evening,” the man said. The accent was American.

Jack turned, offering a polite nod, “Good evening,” he replied.

“Sebastian Pickering,” the man said, extending his hand. “Australia?”

“That’s right,” Jack replied, shaking the man’s hand. “Jack Robinson.”

“Nice to meet you. I pride myself on being able to identify accents. Never been to Australia myself, but I have some friends, formerly of Perth, here in Singapore. From which part do you hail?”

“Uh, Melbourne,” Jack replied.

He didn’t wish to be rude, but he wasn’t in the mood for idle chatter. He wanted to finish his drink and return to Phryne.

"And, what do you do in Australia, Mr. Robinson?” The man was persistent.

“I’m a member of the Victoria Constabulary,” Jack said.

“A policeman?” Baz was intrigued.

“Detective Inspector,” Jack said, turning to take a swig from his drink.

“Even better,” he said. “And what brings you to Singapore, Detective?”

“Just a holiday, Mr. Pickering. Please, call me Jack.”

“I’ll do that, and you must call me Baz. That’s what all my friends call me. If you don’t mind, Jack, I’d love to pick your brains. I’m a writer you see, and I’ve been thinking about trying my hand at a detective story, like _The Maltese Falcon_. Are you familiar with it?”

Jack shook his head.

“It’s a gripping tale. A recent serial in _Black Mask Magazine_. There’s a hard-nosed private detective, Sam Spade, and a mystery revolving around a black falcon figurine. I haven’t actually finished it. My subscription to _Black Mask_ has been slow follow me in my travels, but I’m looking forward to seeing how it ends.”

Jack nodded, bemused by this talkative, enthusiastic man.

“I’ve gotten off track,” Baz apologized. “Would you allow me to buy you a drink in exchange for some stories about your work?”

“I’m not sure how interesting my stories will be,” Jack said. “For a good tale, I think you’d be better served by my...” he hesitated with how to finish that thought, “my colleague.”

“But, you are the one that is here,” Baz said. “And I’m confident you can help me find somewhere to begin.”

“What would you like to know, Mr. Pickering,” Jack acquiesced.

“Baz, please,” the man said, thrilled that Jack had agreed to talk to him. “First, let’s get you another drink. Have you tried the Singapore Sling? It was invented right here at this bar. You can’t stop here without trying one,” he turned and raised a hand in the air. “Barkeep!” he called.

Baz began with general inquiries as to Jack’s daily work but quickly moved on to ask about interesting cases. Jack thought hard about what to say. So many of his cases, though interesting, were tragic and at times gruesome. It hardly seemed fodder for entertainment.

He settled on one story. The murder at MacKenzie’s Cavalcade of Mysteries, glossing over the horrific beheading and moving on to the colorful characters and twisted plans of the murderess Miss Callahan. And while he hid Phryne’s connection to the cavalcade’s patron, she figured prominently in the story.

“This Miss Fisher, Lady Detective, she is the colleague you spoke of and works with you often?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that unusual? To have a civilian, especially a woman, assisting in official police business?”

“Yes,” Jack said again, smiling. “But, Miss Fisher is a very special exception and I’ve found her to be a valuable asset.”

“I must hear more,” Baz said, signaling for another round of drinks.

Two hours later, Jack and Baz were thick as thieves. The American had led an incredible life thus far. At the age of 19 he’d joined the Red Cross as an ambulance driver at the Italian front. Returning home unscathed but restless, he’d found life in the small Indiana town of his birth too stifling, and set off to see the world and to write.

So far he’d been able only to get some stories published in small magazines, he’d lamented. But, it paid the bills and allowed him to travel. He was hoping now to be able to pull the jumble of ideas running around in his head into a novel that would rival Hemingway.

“Have you read any Hemingway, Jack? He’s something of an idol of mine. I met him once, during the war. He was driving for the Red Cross in Italy when I was there. His novel, _The Sun Also Rises_ , was inspiring, in more ways than one. After reading it, I took off for Spain to see the bullfights and I ran with the bulls in Pamplona. Crazy stuff,” he said, shaking his head.

It had been awhile since Jack had sat and conversed with another man in a congenial way like this. A man that saw him not as a police detective, boss or mentor, but simply a peer. It was nice.

They shared war stories. At one point Baz lifted the cuff of his pants, and pushed down his sock to show Jack the small, two inch scare obtained when he’d burned himself on the exhaust pipe of his ambulance.

“That was the extent of my injuries,” he laughed. “Not terribly heroic, I’m afraid.” He looked at his watch. “Do you have anywhere you have to be tonight, Jack, I have some friends I’d love for you to meet, including some from your own country. I know they’d love to meet you,” he said.

“Thank you, Baz, but I couldn’t,” Jack said. “I should be returning to my room.”

“Nonsense. It’s early. I won’t allow you to go sit alone in your room in a city like this! You are on holiday after all.”

While Jack had spoken of Phryne often during their conversation, he’d been careful to keep the stories related to their cases only, and had always referred to her as Miss Fisher. He hadn’t revealed that they were traveling together, let alone sharing a room. He checked his watch. Baz was good company. Jack was enjoying the evening and a little tipsy. Phryne was most likely soundly sleeping, and it occurred to him that Baz, and his friends, might be the sort that would know of a place to take her for her birthday. Someplace that might even surprise her.

“Are your friends nearby?” he asked.

“Yes, quite. No more than a ten minute walk from here. You’ll come?” Baz asked.

“Why not,” Jack said. “But just for an hour or so.”

“Excellent!” He said, slapping Jack on the back.

* * *

 

Phryne awoke in the middle of the night. The room was dark and quiet. Too quiet. She didn’t hear the familiar sound of Jack’s breathing. She reached beside her in the dark and felt the cold sheets beside her. Rising up in bed, she switched on the bedside lamp and looked around. No Jack. She saw the note, scrawled hastily in his messy hand;

 _Gone for a walk. Back soon. J_  

It was one-thirty in the morning. What kind of walk could keep him out this long? She got up and pulled on her dressing gown, going to the window to look out on the city below.

* * *

 

Jack sat in the warm parlour deep in discussion with the older gentlemen.

“...the prevailing authority seems to think the answer is removing these children from mothers and families,” Jack was saying, “taking them from everything they know and tossing them into unfamiliar and often inhospitable circumstance.”

“But what is the alternative?” the man said. “To leave them in the care of such unsophisticated savages when half the blood they carry is European? At least, with their removal, there is some hope for a better life. But, you don’t agree?”

“Perhaps I’ve seen too much of the harm it has caused. And I don’t see how taking a child from a mother that loves him can possibly be to either of their benefit.”

It had been a wide ranging and engrossing discussion, currently focusing on the argument of nature versus nurture. Along with the supposed superiority of the european race.

“For goodness sakes you two,” a melodic, feminine voice called out, “will you please give it a rest and come join the party?”

A pretty woman in a floating, pale pink chiffon dress moved toward them, topping off Jack’s drink and resting a hand on his shoulder. She wore her blond hair in a chin length, wavy bob that set off her apple cheeks, with dangling emerald earrings that drew attention to her large, green eyes.

“Bertrand, you’ve monopolized our new friend long enough,” she said.

“Forgive me, Lucy,” the older gentleman said, “I know how you detest anything that interferes with your fun.”

“Don’t listen to him, Jack,” she took Jack’s hand and drew him away. “He’ll have you believing I’m a thoroughly frivolous creature.”

Jack found himself far less steady on his feet than he’d have liked, and wondered just how many times his glass had been refilled without his noticing. He’d been deep in conversation and had lost track of time.

When he and Baz had arrived at the small, ground level flat, he’d been surprised by the number of people it held. The room had a cozy, bohemian feel to it. Two large, overstuffed sofas were pushed together in a corner at the far side. They looked well used, with fringed shawls draped strategically to hide stains and tears to the fabric. Several easy chairs were scattered about. The lighting was dim, provided mostly by metal, moroccan style pendant lanterns that hung haphazardly from the wood beamed ceiling. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and some kind of earthy, slightly sweet smelling, incense.

At the other end of the room was a large wooden table that held plates, glasses, bottles of wine and plates of cheese, bread and fruit. An older woman sat in the largest easy chair, holding court among the rest of the guests.

When Jack first looked at her, Dr. MacMillan sprang immediately to mind. Upon closer inspection, the resemblance was superficial at best. The women shared a similar shade of hair and manner of dress, but where Mac’s hair was a brilliant red, this woman’s was a deeper auburn. And Mac was always impeccably groomed and elegantly dressed, where the woman before him now, while far from disheveled, was more carelessly put together. Her head came up as Jack and Baz had entered the room, she was clearly the evening’s host. She stood to greet them.

“Baz, dear!” she cried, “We’d all but given up on you tonight! Who do you have with you?”

Baz made introductions. The red-haired woman, Rosemary Whitehall, was the Australian ex-patriot living in Singapore he’d mentioned earlier. Then there was her niece Lucy Jones; an older English gentleman named Bertrand Copeland; a young woman, Anna something; another young man named Tony, and several others whose names Jack didn’t catch.

“Where’s Charlie?” Baz asked.

“He was here earlier,” Rosemary replied. “He’s gone to meet Josephine.”

“Yes,” Lucy said, a bitter edge to her voice, “She crooks her finger and off he runs.”

“Jilted lover,” Baz whispered to Jack, rolling his eyes.

They seemed a convivial bunch and Jack was quickly swallowed into the room with a glass of wine in hand. He’d found himself a bit lost among the rowdy group, and a little alarmed by the way young Lucy kept laughing at his every utterance and touching his arm. He’d been glad to been drawn away into conversation with Mr. Copeland for awhile, even if the man’s views differed radically from Jack’s own. Now, Lucy pulled him back to where the rest were gathered, laughing uproariously.

“Baz has been telling us all about your investigations. It must be fascinating work. And, he spoke also of a female detective you work with. How unusual she must be! What was her name?” Lucy asked, blinking up at him.

“Phryne,” Jack said. “Miss Phryne Fisher.”

She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes glowed as the name dripped from his tongue like honey. Her hopes for the night were immediately dashed.

“Phryne,” she repeated, watching him closely. “What an unusual name.”

“For an extraordinary woman,” Jack said. He started, checking his watch. “And one I must be getting back to. I wouldn’t like her to wake alone.”

“She’s here with you? In Singapore?”

Jack blanched, realizing he’d said too much.

“Don’t be shy, Jack,” she said, coyly. “You’re among friends. Why is she not with you tonight?”

Jack explained that he’d left her sleeping to go in search of a birthday surprise for her before meeting Baz.

“A gift?” she inquired.

“No, more somewhere special to take her for the occasion. I already have a gift. Though it’s begun to feel inadequate,” he frowned.

Why was he telling this woman so much. The alcohol certainly had loosened his tongue. Lucy cocked her head and smiled. She found herself suddenly curious to meet Miss Phryne Fisher. A lucky woman indeed, to have so clearly captured the attention of this very attractive and intelligent man.

“I think I may be able to help you on both counts, Jack,” she said.


	14. Chapter 14

Phryne paced around the large drawing room of their suite. It was now nearly three in the morning and still no sign of Jack. She’d called down to the lobby and the night man had said he’d seen Mr. Robinson leaving the hotel around eleven with another man.

Phryne couldn’t imagine who it might be. As far as she was aware, Jack knew not a soul in Singapore, and they’d spoken to no one other than hotel staff since arriving. She was becoming rather frantic and was debating getting dressed to go in search of him, when she heard a key scratching at the lock. Someone was obviously having difficulty working it.

She shot back the bolt and pulled the door open.

“Jack! Thank goodness!” she cried.

One quick look told her he was drunk. She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room.

“Where have you been!”

“You’re up,” he said, slow to take in what was happening. The room was very bright, as she had lit all the lamps.

“Yes, I’m up,” she said, annoyed now. “I’ve been up for hours, worrying about you!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, blinking, as his eyes adjusted. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

She looked so beautiful. Her hair was a mess, her brow creased and she had that defiant stance she took whenever she was angry, with her shoulders squared and her hands on her hips. He dropped his overcoat on a chair and went to put his arms around her.

“Oh no you don’t,” she said, pushing him away. “You don’t get off that easy. And Jack, you...well to put it bluntly, you smell! Have you fallen in something?”

She crossed the room, away from him. He gave his coat sleeve a little sniff.

“The man at the desk said you went out with someone. Who was that?”

“Ah, that would be Baz. Met him in the bar. Nice bloke, very interesting. Ran with the bulls in Spain. He wants to meet you, they all do.”

In spite of her confusion, Phryne had to smile. She’d rarely seen Jack drunk, and both times he’d been upset. Tonight, he seemed to be in good spirits. He was swaying a bit and his eyes were glassy. It was endearing to see him so far from his usual, well-controlled self.

“They do, do they?” she said, softening, and wondering who ‘they’ were. “I look forward to meeting them too, especially this Baz person. He sounds like a peach."

She picked his overcoat up from the chair, sniffing.

“Patchouli. Incense, Jack? Never was a fan,” she said, his night was seeming curiouser and curiouser. “We’ll have to see what the hotel laundry can do with your clothes. We’ll set them out for housekeeping.”

She began going through the pockets of his trench, pulling from the breast pocket a fine sliver chain.

“What is this?”

Jack looked up.

“No!” he said, snatching it from her hand. “That was meant to be a surprise.”

“Well, it’s too late now,” she said, eagerly, “Let me see!”

“It’s for your birthday!” He protested.

“And, my birthday began several hours ago,” she said.

He relented, letting the necklace fall from his hand and dangle off of his middle finger.

“Happy birthday, darling. Though I had hoped to make this a bit more special.”

She cupped the pendant, letting it rest on her palm. It was a dimensional heart, like a locket, made from filigreed silver. Inside the lacy cage, a brilliant red garnet sparkled.

“Do you like it?” he asked. “There were others to choose from. This made me think of you, but perhaps you’d like something different?”

“No,” she said. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

She gave him a kiss so gentle and loving it made his heart leap.

“Where did you find this?” she asked. Handing it to him and turning so he could clasp it behind her neck.

“A woman I met tonight designed it,” he said. “She has quite a successful business here.”

“Is she one of the people that want to meet me?” she asked.

“She is,” he said. “And her niece, and my friend Baz, are even more eager than she to make your acquaintance.”

“It sounds like you had an interesting night,” she said. “I’m a little put out that you left me behind.”

“If it helps, I missed you,” he said.

“It does. Now, why don’t we get you into a bath,” She said, helping him out of his suit coat.

Once he was down to his shorts and undershirt, she led him into the bath and sat him on the commode while she filled the tub.

“I”m fine you know. You don’t have to do this,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Take care of me. I’m not that drunk.”

“I want to Jack. You’ll just have to put up with my fussing. Now get in the tub.”

Jack stripped off his remaining clothes and stepped into the bath.

“Care to join me?” he asked.

“Perhaps another time,” she laughed, as she pressed on his shoulders to get him to sit down into the water.

Now it was her turn to tend to him. He settled back and let her soap his arms and chest, then leaned forward so she could get at his back. She used the nearby pitcher to rinse him and wet his head. He relaxed and closed his eyes as she massaged shampoo into his scalp.

There was something incredibly intimate about bathing him this way. It wasn’t sexual, she sought only to clean him, but found herself warming in a way that had nothing to do with arousal. She felt content.

Once he was clean and dried off. He found his way into pajamas and before too long they were laying side by side on the bed. It was about a quarter to four in the morning.

Jack recounted a bit of his night to her, leaving out the final plans that had been discussed just before he returned to the hotel. He wanted to surprise her with that later, after they’d gotten some sleep.

“I am sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long. The night got away from me.”

“It’s alright,” she replied, smoothing his hair off of his forehead. “No harm done.”

She fingered the pendant at her neck.

“What about this reminded you of me?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I just saw it and thought of you. The heart was so delicate and beautiful, but strong enough to hold that fiery gem.”

“And the garnet? What does that represent?”

“That is my heart," he said, "Which burns for you, and you alone.”

Her own heart pounded in her chest.

“Do you know how much I love you, Phryne?” he said.

“I think I do,” she replied. “I love you too, Jack. So very much.”

She was never more sure of that then she’d been as she waited, wondering where he was, and desperate for him to return safely. She turned so she could press her back to him, and felt his warm body curl around her, his arm encircling her waist to draw her closer.

* * *

 

They slept late. As Phryne began to wake, Jack went to his suitcase to get the shawl he’d purchased in Colombo. He hid it behind his back and went to sit on the bed beside her. She sat up, blinking at him in the morning light.

“How’s your head this morning, Jack?” she asked. He laughed.

“No worse than I deserve,” he said. “Am I forgiven for deserting you last night?”

“Of course you are,” she said. “But don’t do that again Jack. You scared me.”

“I know. It was thoughtless. Will you let me make it up to you?”

“What did you have in mind?” she asked with a smile.

“Well, I wanted to make your day extra special, so to start, I have another gift for you,” he said, drawing the bright red silk through his hands and draping it over her neck. “I wish I’d been able to have it wrapped like a proper birthday present.”

She looked up happily, into his eyes as he used the fabric to pull her close, this time kissing her they way he’d longed too when he’d, once before, placed a scarf around her.

“This is lovely,” she said, running her hands over the smooth silk. “You’ll spoil me Jack Robinson.”

“That’s the idea. After all, a birthday is only one day a year. And I’m just getting started,” he said, mysteriously.

“What are you planning?” she asked.

“Patience, Miss Fisher.”

“Seriously Jack, you don’t need to go to any trouble, I only want to spend the day with you.”

“Oh, I’ll be with you. Every step of the way, but you’ve been such an excellent traveling companion. Dragging along with me to all those museums and temples. Tonight we are doing something a bit more your style, Miss Fisher.”

She was becoming excited now.

“What! Tell me!”

“We’ve been invited to a party. A rather grand affair, I’m to understand.”

“But I’ve nothing to wear to a fancy party!” she cried. “I didn’t pack anything like that.”

Jack had fit his own formal dress into his case, since he’d been hoping all along to pull off a special night for her, and had wanted to be prepared for anything.

“You’d be the envy of all in whatever you wore, but they have dress makers here in Singapore, don’t they? Some rather fine ones, I imagine. Today, we are going shopping and will find you something spectacular, and you will let me buy it for you.”

“No, Jack! You’ve given me enough.”

“Phryne, please. Let me do this.”

“I don’t deserve you,” she said, beaming at him.

“I’m sure you do,” he said, pulling her close again.

They returned to the hotel several hours later, arm in arm, Phryne happily holding tight to Jack’s bicep. He carried the box containing the gown they’d found for her. It had fit her nearly perfectly, requiring only minor modifications they’d convinced the seamstress to make while they lunched nearby. Jack had been shocked by the price. A quick calculation of her extensive wardrobe informed him she had a sizable investment in her closet. He told himself the cost didn't matter. He was still ahead in what he'd set aside for the trip. And it had made her so happy. And we would love seeing her in it. It was worth it.

As the passed through the lobby, Jack heard someone calling his name. He turned to see Baz approaching through the entry doors.

“I thought that was you ahead of me on the sidewalk!” Baz said, approaching. “And could this be the elusive, Miss Fisher? You are exquisite,” he said, earnestly. “Not at all what I’d envisioned for a Lady Detective.”

Phryne raised her eyebrows at Jack.

“Miss Fisher, may I present Mr. Sebastian Pickering,” Jack said.

“Please, call me Baz,” he said, making a show of taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“A pleasure, Baz,” she replied, extricating her hand. “And, I insist you call me Phryne. I understand you showed my Jack quite an evening.”

“I hope you don’t mind. He didn’t let on that he wasn’t traveling alone. I can’t imagine why he let me drag him away from someone as lovely as yourself!”

“Jack is free to do as he pleases, and I’m very sure he could never be ‘dragged’ anywhere,” she said, defensively.

Jack knew the effect Phryne had on men, but even he thought Baz was laying it on a bit thick.

“Of course,” Baz said. “We will see you two tonight, won’t we? Everyone is so hoping you’ll come.”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Jack said, “Please thank your friend for including us.”

“Charlie is thrilled with the idea. He loves throwing a bash and the more the merrier, as far as he’s concerned. Why don’t we share a cab over tonight?”

Jack looked to Phryne, who gave him a slight nod.

“Thank you Baz,” Jack said. “That would be fine.”

“Excellent! We’ll meet here at eight thirty!” Baz cried enthusiastically, “Until tonight then!”

He bowed gallantly to Phryne before heading off.

“Well, he’s an eager one isn’t he?” she said.

“Yes,” said Jack. “He didn’t seem so very bombastic last night.”

“Perhaps the drinks dulled your senses,” Phryne said. “What exactly was in that cocktail? This Singapore Sling you mentioned.”

“I don’t think I can blame the whole night on that,” he said.

“Hmm. Well, now that I’ve met your Baz, I must say I’m even more curious to meet the rest of your friends,” she said.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Phryne celebrate her birthday in grand style.

Jack slipped the black jacket over the white waistcoat and straightened his black tie. At least tonight he would look like he belonged at her side.

In the sitting room he found Phryne staring out the window. The back of her dress fastened between her shoulder blades and again at the small of her back, but was open between the clasps, providing a glimpse of her alabaster skin, a stark contrast against the midnight blue, duchesse satin. (After today’s visit to the dressmaker, he now knew what the regal fabric was called.)

It skimmed her hips and the curve of her bottom before cascading to brush the floor. She looked splendid, but he found himself frowning. Something about the way she stood gave him pause. Her shoulders were slightly rounded, and her arms wrapped across her body to hug herself tightly.

He had known this was inevitable. It was never far from her mind, especially today. The guilt, however misplaced, hung heavily over her, along with the sadness. He had hoped to be able to distract her, at least for a few hours. To give back to her a little piece of this day. This day that should be a happy one for her. She deserved that.

Foyle had taken her beloved sister, and so much more from her all those years ago. It was some consolation that, thanks to her, he was now rotting in hell. Jack wasn’t usually one to find relief in capital punishment, but for that evil man, he’d have tied the noose himself.

He went to her and quietly wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling her weight as she leaned wearily against him. He’d carry her all night if he had to, to get her through this.

“Have I been presumptuous with our plans tonight?” he asked. “I want you to enjoy this evening, but if you aren’t up to a large gathering, we can stay in. Whatever you need, I’ll do it. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“You’d tell me, then? If this was a bad idea?” he asked.

She turned in his arms, placing her hands on his chest, looking him up and down and smiling.

“Any idea that results in you looking like this, is a good idea. You are beautiful Jack,” she said. “I will have to keep a close eye on you in a crowd full of women.”

“I doubt anyone will notice me, with you by my side. In fact, I’m rethinking this whole evening," he said, tightening his hold on her waist. “It may be wiser to keep you here, where I have you all to myself.”

“We wouldn’t want to disappoint your friends,” she said. 

“Hang them,” he replied. “What do I care.”

“No, we’ll go to the party. I think this might be just the distraction I need. And I will enjoy anticipating later in the night, when I will get to unwrap my very best present,” she said, running her hands over his lapels.

They met Baz in the lobby of the hotel. Once again, his overly solicitous manner and the vaguely leering flattery he aimed at Phryne was off-putting. He was unctuous and more eager to please than Jack had thought him the previous night.

On the ride over, Baz spoke of their host for the evening, Charlton Lacey, or Charlie, as he preferred to be called. Charlie was an ex-patriot Englishman. His mother was the daughter of a wealthy American copper baron, his father an English Earl. As the third son, he was not heir to his father’s title, but that suited him fine. He had more money than he could spend, and happily lived a charmed life of ease with lots of parties and travel. According to Baz, he was a “top-shelf chap” and generous with his friends. He’d purchased a splendid beachfront villa in Singapore just a few months earlier and this was to be his first large party to christen the new property.

In about ten minutes they stopped in front a magnificent mansion. It was a sprawling one level structure. The design was a mix of local and British architectural styles. In the center, and at either end were protruding, circular porches with classical columns reaching from the porch floor to the hipped roof. A gingerbread railing ran the length of the rooftop, bordered by balustrades top with round finials.

French doors lined the front facade. All were currently throw open, spilling light, music and laughter out onto the lawn. Halfway along the paved path leading to the entry was a round patio with an enormous fountain at its center. Water cascaded down over five tiered bowls and into a round shallow pool at the base. Smart-looking people could be seen through the open doorways and out on the porches. Men in black or white tie, women in beaded, silk and satin flowing gowns.

Jack took Phryne’s hand to help her from the cab, happy to see the excited look on her face as she took in the scene. She looked his way, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

“This looks like fun, Jack.”

It was music to his ears.

“Shall we, Miss Fisher?” he said, offering his arm.

They entered the house and stepped into a sight unlike anything Jack had ever seen. They were in a large, open ballroom. Four shimmering, crystal chandeliers hung at intervals, their light bouncing off the reflective surface of the silver painted, coved ceiling. French windows ringed the room, curtained with heavy, pale blue, silk curtains fringed with gold. There had to be more than a hundred people talking, laughing, drinking and dancing on the inlaid marble floor. Tables lined the hall, laden with flowers, food and drink. At the far end of the room, a raised stage held a ten piece orchestra. Baz leaned into Jack, practically shouting in his ear over the din.

“It’s really something, isn’t it? Follow me, let’s find our host.”

They pushed their way though the crowd, Jack holding tight to Phryne’s hand to keep from losing her. Baz led them to a small circle of people, some of whom Jack recognized from the previous night. There was Lucy Jones, another girl he remembered was called Anna, and few men whose names he couldn’t recall. As they approached, Lucy sprang toward them, throwing her arms about Jack’s neck.

“Jackie!” she cried, “I’m so glad you made it. Don’t you look delicious!” She seemed a bit tipsy.

Phryne’s expression was one of amusement. She raised her eyebrows slightly, mouthing, ‘ _Jackie?_ ’ Jack met her eye and shrugged, looking bewildered. He pulled himself free.

“Miss Jones,” he said. “How nice to see you again. Allow me to introduce Miss Phryne Fisher.”

“A pleasure, I’ve heard so much about you, Miss Fisher” she said, barely glancing at Phryne and linking her arm through Jack’s.

“But Jack, darling, why so formal? You know you can call me Lucy. Oh, and you too, of course, Miss Fisher,” she tossed in as an aside.

“Why, thank you Lucy, it’s lovely to meet you as well,” Phryne said graciously, stepping closer to Jack’s other side. “And you must call me Phryne.”

“Excellent,” cried Lucy. “I’m sure we’ll be the best of friends!”

“I’m sure,” replied Phryne.

“Miss Jones, er, Lucy,” Jack began. “Is your Aunt here? I had hoped to introduce her to Miss Fisher. Phryne wanted to meet the woman responsible for the lovely birthday present,” he said, by way of bringing to mind his relationship with Phryne, while he tried to extricate himself from her grasp. She held firm.

“I’m afraid not,” Lucy said. “It’s not really her scene. Will you dance with me Jack?”

Baz grabbed hold of Jack’s arm,

“Jack,” he said. “There’s my friend Charlie, let me introduce you and Phryne.” Causing Lucy to finally relinquished her hold.

“Don’t keep him too long, Baz,” she pouted.

Jack inclined his head politely and hurried away.

“Isn’t she sweet,” said Phryne. She found his discomfort adorable.

“Don’t start,” he hissed.

“But, she’s so obviously smitten, and so very pretty,” Phryne teased.

“She’s a child, Phryne,” he said, firmly.

Baz led them a few feet away to where a man and a woman were standing alone, looking rather cozy. The man was tall and very good looking, though he favored a thin pencil mustache that Phryne found unappealing. His tuxedo was of the highest quality, in the very latest fashion. Phryne looked at the woman, who still had her back to them. Statuesque, was the word that came to mind. Nearly as tall as the man, she was lithe and willowy, her head held high on a long elegant neck. She wore a glittering, beaded, aubergine evening gown. It plunged dangerously in the back revealing an unblemished expanse of skin. Her sleek black hair was not bobbed or waved in the prevailing fashion, but pulled into an elegant chignon at the base of her skull. The graceful way she moved, as she turned to greet them, suggested dance.

When she fully faced them, Phryne’s breath caught in her throat. The woman had an oval face with perfectly symmetrical features. Her aquiline nose, almond shaped, hazel eyes and olive skin gave her an exotic appearance. She wasn’t conventionally pretty, and yet she was one of the most beautiful women Phryne thought she’d ever seen. The man’s face broke into a wide grin as they drew near.

“Baz!” he cried, coming forward to greet his friend with a hug. “I was wondering when you’d arrive!”

Baz greeted the man with excited deference and made introductions all around. The man was the evening’s host, Charlton Lacey. The woman was named Josephine Bette.

Jack remembered the name being mentioned the previous evening and Lucy’s jealous reaction. He felt some pity for the young girl. Lucy was a pretty, but she couldn’t hold a candle to this woman. It must have been hard to be thrown over, and then have to see the object of her affection with someone so uncommonly beautiful. Besides Phryne, she was undoubtedly the loveliest woman in the room.

Jack thanked Charlie for the invitation, which was waved off without ceremony, and they spoke for a few minutes about Jack’s line of work and life in Australia. Phryne struck up a conversation with Josephine. At first the woman complimented each other on their fabulous gowns, but moved on rapidly, both too curious about the other to linger long on the subject of fashion.

Josephine asked what had brought Phryne and Jack to Singapore and was most interested in the fact that Phryne was piloting a plane to take them home to Australia. She was even more interested to hear of the work Phryne did as a private detective alongside Jack.

“How extraordinary!” she said. “I find it so encouraging to hear of women who are living independently. And, Jack? He is comfortable working with you? As a partner?”

“Yes,” Phryne said. “In fact we work well together.”

“That is most unusual to find in a man,” Josephine said.

“Jack is a most unusual man,” Phryne said, smiling. “I’m lucky to have found him.”

“Lucky indeed. He is also an extremely handsome man.”

To her embarrassment, Phryne felt herself blush slightly. A server approached carrying a tray laden with glasses of champagne.

“Please,” Charlie said, picking up glasses and handing them around. “You look in need of refreshment. Enjoy your evening, I hope to bump into you again. You, Miss Fisher, must save me a dance, but now, I think I hear our song. Shall we, darling?” he said, taking Josephine’s hand and leading her out to the dance floor.

Jack, Phryne and Baz returned to the small gathering of friends nearby and made acquaintances. Before long, the young man called Tony asked Phryne to dance. She glanced briefly at Jack, who merely smiled, sending her one her way. Lucy again asked him to dance with her, but Jack declined politely, saying the music didn’t suit him.

He moved away under the guise of seeking another glass of champagne, and took up a post, leaning against a large column to the side of the room, from which to watch Phryne for awhile. She moved across the floor looking light and happy, leaning in to let Tony whisper something in her ear, then throwing back her head to laugh. It warmed him to see it.

He remembered this date a year previous, when he’d sat in her kitchen, holding her hand and seeing the pain in her eyes as they finalized the paperwork in that horrible case involving her sister’s murder. She’d asked him to help her celebrate and he’d stood witness as she’d laid aside her grief, and physically transformed herself, becoming lighter, bouncing higher with each step, as she entered the parlour, where her friends were waiting to honor her on her birthday.

Only he had been privy to her anguish that night, and when she’d looked across the room at him, raising her glass in a silent, grateful salute, he’d been in awe of her strength. That’s when it had happened. When he’d gone from simply admiring, and desiring her, to loving her. It had just taken him a bit longer to realize it.

After Tony, he watched as she danced with Charlie, then two other men he hadn’t met. When the band struck up a waltz, he saw her excuse herself from the man of the moment, her head swiveling, her eyes coming to rest when they met his. He stepped forward, moving to her side and sliding his arm around her.

“Is it my turn at last?” He asked teasingly.

“It’s always your turn, Jack. You need only ask,” she said, placing her hand over his and walking onto the floor. 


	16. Chapter 16

After a few dances, Jack had had his fill and they went to cool off and find refreshments, then joined some of the people they’d met earlier, sitting down at a table with Tony, Lucy, Anna and Baz. Phryne found herself seating between Jack and Anna.

“Are you enjoying your evening, Miss Fisher?” Anna asked.

“Please, call me Phryne. And yes, I am enjoying myself.”

“Charlie does know how to throw a party,” Anna replied. “What do you think of Charlie? And Josephine? They make a stunning couple, don’t they?”

“Yes,” Phryne agreed.

“Poor, Lucy,” Anna said, lowering her voice to avoid being overheard. “First she loses Charlie, then she met your Jack, and set her cap, only to be disappointed again when she learned of your existence. Not that it’s stopped her from trying.”

The words were somewhat sympathetic, the tone was not. Phryne gave Anna a wry smile.

“Forgive me,” the girl said. “That sounded catty. But she does bring it on herself. With all the doors opening for women these days, why she’d want to find some man to live for, I’ll never know. But I hope you will forgive her behavior tonight. I believe she is feeling especially vulnerable.”

“How long were Lucy and Charlie together?”

“Not long. It never is long with Charlie. But he was careless with Lucy. She is young and naive. I think Charlie may have been her first lover. He broke her heart. I don’t know what he was thinking. He’s not usually that cruel.”

Phryne looked over to the dance floor where Josephine was currently dancing rather provocatively with a dashing young man. Charlie stood to the side watching her. Anna watched too.

“It’s curious to see Charlie with Jo,” Anna continued, almost as though speaking to herself. “He seems quite taken with her, but she’s not known for being a one man kind of woman. He may have met his match in her.”

“She is very lovely,” Phryne said.

“And she knows it too,” said Anna, smiling at Phryne. “Can have her pick of men, and usually does.”

“Do you know her well?”

“We have mutual friends and have crossed path’s now and then. But no, I can’t say I know her well. I have known Charlie for years now.”

“But you and he were never...”

“Lovers?” Anna finished Phryne’s thought. “Briefly, when we first met. It was a long time ago. We parted on friendly terms. I’ve never held much stock in happily ever after.”

Phryne nodded in understanding.

“It’s an eclectic little community you have here,” Phryne said.

“I suppose it is. Our own little stew,” she said, smiling, “with new people always coming and going to spice things up.”

“Baz is an interesting character,” Phryne said quietly, glancing to where he sat across the table.

“Yes, he is,” Anna said. “Charlie met him somewhere, I can’t remember where, but he’s rather fond of him. I know he helps him out financially from time to time.”

“Does Baz need help,” Phryne asked, surprised. “I would think someone that can afford to stay at Raffles would be rather well settled.”

“Baz? Stay at Raffles!?” Anna laughed. “I don’t think so. Baz looks the part, but he’s as poor as a church mouse. Lives on the kindness of strangers. Whatever made you think he was staying at Raffles?”

“I just assumed,” Phryne said. “Jack met him in the bar and we encountered him in the lobby just this morning.”

“He must have been there to visit someone. He’d more likely be working in the kitchen than staying there!”

“I thought he was a writer?”

“Fancies himself one, though I’ve never seen a single thing he’s written. He’s a sweet guy though. Always fun to have around.”

Just then the man they were speaking of approached and asked Phryne for a dance. She made her leave of Anna, with a lot of new and interesting information about Jack’s recent acquaintances. She was eager to have a one to one conversation with the mysterious Baz.

Lucy watched Phryne head back out onto the dance floor and immediately moved to take her vacated seat at Jack’s side.

“Left alone again, I see. I don’t think she’s spent more than two minutes by your side,” she said sympathetically. Jack smiled.

“Phryne knows I do not share her love of dancing. I see no reason for her to stand idly by, simply because I’m disinclined.”

“You’re too good, Jack,” she purred, running her hand along his arm and batting her eyes up at him.

“Leave the poor man alone, Lucy,” Tony said, coming to Jack’s aid. “I’ll dance with you if you’re so desperate!”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her away. Jack spoke briefly with Anna before excusing himself. He was feeling rather warm and wanted some fresh air. He looked to see that Phryne was still happily engaged before stepping outside, and was surprised to see her in what looked like a heated conversation with Lucy. Well, Lucy looked heated, Phryne looked slightly alarmed. Their respective dance partners stood by exchanging bewildered glances.

Lucy flounced away. Phryne looked up, caught Jack’s eye and moved quickly in his direction.

“What was that about?” he asked. “Let’s step outside for a moment, it’s become too close in here.”

He took hold of her elbow and steered her through one of the open doors. They walked out to the lawn, and into a gazebo that stood halfway between the back of the house and the water.

“Pretty Lucy is rather taken with you, Jack,” Phryne huffed.

“I haven’t encouraged her,” he asserted, “I’ve barely said two words to her all night!”

“I know that. She isn’t the issue,” she said, waving away the thought like a bothersome fly. She turned to him and said, seriously, “have I been neglecting you?”

“What? Of course not. Why would you ask that?”

“Something Lucy said. She said that I’m like all the other frivolous women that don’t know a good thing when they have one. That I don’t deserve a man like you. That I’m making you ridiculous by ‘throwing’ myself at other man right under your nose.”

Jack laughed, but Phryne didn’t look amused.

“Phryne, that’s ludicrous.”

“Is it?” she asked. “I hadn’t thought what it might look like to others. That it could appear as though you are inconsequential to me. And that others might pity you and think you a fool.”

He was astonished.

“Why do you care what others might think?” he said.

“You’ve been so good to me, making my birthday such a wonderful day. And I’ve repaid you by spending the night dancing with other men.”

He was touched by her apparent remorse, but it was unnecessary.

“Phryne, you can spend time with whomever you like, dance with as many men as you like. Why should you stick like glue to my side, when you want to dance and I do not?” He took hold of her hips and pulled her to him. “And truth be told, I like watching you,” he said, his voice dropping low. “To see you so desired, by so many. They can dance with you and enjoy your smiles, but at the end of the night, they will leave with their memories, while I will be leaving with you.”

She beamed up at him.

“While I find I am the opposite,” she said, winding her hands around his neck, smiling slyly. “I do not enjoy watching other women make eyes at you and flirt. It only makes me want to pull their hair out.”

He looked deep into her eyes and slid his hands down over her backside, gripping her firmly.

“Why should we be concerned by the rantings of a silly girl, or what people might say?” he said. “We know what we feel for each other. What anyone else thinks is of no consequence.”

He kissed her then, his lips burning against hers. She surrendered to it, winding her hands into his hair and humming into his mouth as she pressed her body to his. Her lips parted and she felt his tongue sliding over hers. He pulled at her mouth, drawing her lips between his slowly, taking his time, savoring every moment. When they at last broke apart she was panting for him.

“Come back inside with me, and do that again,” she said, breathlessly. “That’ll show them all.”

“We don’t need to show anyone anything,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “Whenever you are ready to leave this place, I’m more than happy to accompany you back to our hotel. To that rather large and extravagant bed.”

“Lead the way, Jack,” she said.

They walked quickly back to the house, making their way to the front, stopping as briefly as they could to say any goodbyes.They hurried down the walk, past the fabulous fountain, now full of rather drunk and rowdy guests.

It was easy to find a taxi among the constant stream of automobiles dropping off or picking up, and before long they were on their way back to the hotel.

They behaved rather scandalously in the back of the cab, unable to keep their hands off of each other or their lips parted for any length of time. The ten minute ride was unbearable in that they couldn’t very well tear each other’s clothes off in the presence of the driver. Phryne tipped the man well, and they flew from the cab, eager to reach the privacy of their suite.

Once through the door, Jack was all over her.

“If I didn’t know how much this cost, I’d be tearing it from you,” he snarled, rucking up the skirt of her dress and bunching it in his fists.

She turned her back to him.

“Good God, Jack!” she moaned, “Help me out of it gently then, but be quick about it!”

He unfastened the clasps and pulled the dress up over her head leaving her in nothing by her silk tap pants, gartered stockings and high heeled sandals.

He paused a moment to take her in, letting his eyes roam from her head to her toes. Then he bent to take a perfect, round breast into his mouth as she arched her body to encourage him further. He stood back to pull his jacket off. He wanted to feel her skin against his own.

She went to help him, tugging his black bow tie free and unbuttoning his waistcoat, pushing it off to find a pair of black braces underneath, requiring removal before she could take off his shirt, under which she’d no doubt find an undershirt as well.

“Dammit!” she cried in frustration. “Why must men wear so many layers!”

He laughed at her.

“I thought you liked the way I look in this get up,” he said.

“I do Jack, but I’ve seen enough of it, now I want to see you in far less!”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” he said slyly. “Allow me.”

She smiled and lay back on the bed to watch him as he removed the rest of his clothing with deft swiftness.

She leaned down to remove her sandal.

“No,” he said firmly, “leave it for me.”

Now bared, he approached and took her ankle in his hand. She lay back on the bed, watching him closely. He held her by the heel with one hand, while the other glided up her calf, along her stocking, all the way to the top where his fingers lightly skimmed the edge between silk and skin.

“Why must everything a woman wears be so damn tempting,” he said.

He brought his hand back to her ankle to unbuckle the strap of her sandal, slipping it from her foot and letting it drop to the floor, repeating the process with the other foot.

That done, he reached for the waistband of her tap pants. She lifted her hips so that he could slide them off of her. She lay back, her hands folded behind her head, forming a nest, from which she watched, never taking her eyes from his face.

He took hold of her leg once more, unclipping her garter and slowly rolling the stocking down, kissing along the path of skin as her leg was revealed. He moved to the next leg, quickly removing the stocking and this time reversing his kisses, from ankle to thigh. The heady aroma of her arousal filled his senses, and he wanted desperately to taste her.

Her head fell back and her hands flew to the headboard, pressing against it, seeking anything to help keep her grounded.

“Oh, Jack!” He heard her cry, urging him on, his fingers digging into her hips and backside possessively. He was beyond reason. Everything was Phryne, there was nothing else.

When she cried out again, tangling her hands in his hair, and pulling him up, he groaned, not ready to abandon his pursuit, but she called for him, and he went to her, entering in and letting his full weight rest on top of her.

She let out a small whimper as he filled her, wrapping her legs around him to take him in. They rocked slowly, finding a rhythm as their eyes and lips explored. Their frenzied beginning giving way to a deep and binding connection, as their two bodies became one.

* * *

 

Jack lay facing her, tracing her face with two fingers. He gently brushed the hair back from her cheek, drawing his hand down over her jaw, her throat, and along her breastbone before laying his palm flat upon her chest to feel the thrum of her heart.

“I thought it would stop,” he said. “No. Not stop, never stop, but...lessen.”

“What would?”

“The desire,” he said. “I thought that if I could just have you, it would ease.”

“And it hasn’t?”

“Not at all. It doesn’t stop,” he replied, his voice growing husky. “If anything, it increases. Even when I’ve just left you, I can hardly bear to be parted, and only want to be inside you again.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her near.

“It doesn’t stop,” he repeated. “And I fear I’ll bleed myself dry, with each time, but I don’t feel depleted. I feel stronger and whole. You don’t take from me. You fill me, until I’m overflowing, and I need to give you more and more.”

He rolled her on top of him, holding her firm to him.

“And I want you,” she said. “All  that you can give me.” She sat up straddling his thighs. “I want all of you and I will take it. There will be nothing left for anyone else. You are mine, Jack, and I mean to keep you,” she said, as she lowered herself slowly on to him, and delighted in his anguished cry.

* * *

 

A loud ringing disturbed Phryne’s slumber. She felt wasted and heavy and wanted nothing more than to sleep.

“Make it stop,” she complained.

She heard him chuckle quietly beside her, and felt the bed sway and creak as he rose from it.

Jack went to the phone wondering who could be calling at such an early hour. The sky outside was just barely lightening with the dawn. He picked up the receiver.

“Mr. Robinson, this is George, at the desk,” a clipped polite voice said, “I am so sorry to disturb, but there is a woman here, a Miss Whitehall, insisting upon speaking to you. She assures me it is a matter of some urgency. Will you speak with her?”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Phryne learn of a tragedy that occurred after they left the party the previous night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know very little about the government of Singapore, or the legal system in Singapore in 1929. I am just mostly making stuff up!

Rosemary Whitehall waited impatiently in the lobby of the grand Raffles Hotel. She’d finally persuaded the desk clerk to ring Mr. Robinson’s room and he’d agreed to come at once. Sebastian Pickering stood anxiously by her side.

“I’m not sure he will be of much help, Rosemary,” Baz said.

“You said he is a detective, and his lady friend, too,” she replied somewhat hysterically. “They have to help! I don't know where else to turn. She is my sister’s child, and all that I have left of her!”

“But the woman,” he said. “You did not see her last night. I fear his infatuation has clouded his judgement. I question it myself, if he allows a woman like that to interfere in his work. She appears nothing like the intelligent, insightful woman he describes! She is beautiful, to be sure, but nothing more than a lovely face, and she clearly has him wrapped around her finger.”

Rosemary was looking over his shoulder, she sighed in relief. Baz turned.

Coming out from the elevators were Jack and Miss Fisher. The quiet confidence he had witnessed in Jack the other night at the bar was amplified tenfold. The man strode with determined purpose. Dressed modestly, but impeccably, in a three-piece, deep blue suit, his overcoat billowing as he moved swiftly forward.

Beside him was Miss Fisher. She wore smart, dark trousers and a matching blouse. Her own coat, a casual duster, mirrored his, whipping about her legs, as she matched him stride for stride. 

This was no frivolous party girl and her indulgent companion. These two were a formidable pair, and Baz felt a chill spread through him. 

Rosemary moved past him, stretching her hands out to Jack in pleading gratitude.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, Mr. Robinson,” she said.

“Of course,” Jack replied, clasping her hands. “Miss Whitehall, this is my partner, Miss Fisher,” he said, inclining his head toward Phryne. “Tell us, what has happened? You said Lucy had been taken into custody? On what charge?”

“Murder,” the woman replied going white as a sheet. “They say she killed Josephine Bette.”

Jack and Phryne exchanged a significant glance. Rosemary swayed on her feet. Jack grabbed her elbow, supporting her lest she collapse, and led her to a nearby chair. Baz followed silently, wringing his hands.

Once they were all seated, Jack leaned toward the distraught woman. Phryne leaned in as well, taking up the older woman’s shaking hands.

“Tell us what you know,” she said gently. “The Inspector and I will do whatever we can.”

“That’s the problem,” she said. “I don’t know anything, they won’t let me see her. All I know is that Lucy went to a party at Charlie’s last evening and this morning, Baz came to me and said she’d been arrested.”

Jack looked to Baz for further explanation. The man looked petrified. He sat nodding his his head, but saying nothing.

“Baz, what happened last night?” Jack prodded, “How did Josephine die?”

“I don’t know, it’s all a blur. It was late, or rather, early. Maybe five in the morning? The crowds had gone but there were ten or twelve of us still around. I was out on the lawn, behind the house. A few people had walked down to the beach. I was on my way there myself when I heard it.”

He stopped, his face growing even paler than it already was.

“What did you hear?” Phryne said gently. 

Jack let Phryne take the lead. With the state Baz was in he thought her gentler touch might be more effective in getting him to talk. He sat back, watching Baz closely as Phryne tried to coax more information from him.

“It came from the house,” Baz said. “I don’t know how to describe it. It was terrible. It didn’t even sound human. It was Charlie.”

He was looking at Phryne, but she didn’t think he was seeing her. 

“Could you see Charlie?” 

“Not at first, but he came from the house. I could make out that he was carrying something. It was still dark, the only light coming from inside and a few torches on the lawn. But he was wailing something awful. He only made it a few feet before falling. By the time I got to him, he was on his knees, cradling her in his lap. That’s when I saw that what he held was Jo. Or, rather, her body.”

“She was already dead?”

“Yes. They were both covered in blood.”

“Did Charlie say what happened?” 

“No, Charlie couldn’t say anything. Other people rushed over. Someone went inside to phone the police.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where was Lucy during all this.”

Baz looked from Phryne to Jack, he seemed to be back in their presence now, mentally as well as physically, but he was still quite shaken.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t remember if I saw her earlier, I only remember her in the parlour, where the police had asked us all to gather.”

“And, when was the last time you remember seeing Josephine?”

At the sound of her name, Baz was overcome. He covered his mouth with his hand and looked as though he might be sick. He shook his head, whether to say that he didn’t know the answer to her question or that he couldn’t continue, Phryne wasn’t sure.

“Baz,” she said softly, placing a hand on his knee. “Do you think you could write down for us all the people that were still present when Charlie came outside, and where they were, to the best of your knowledge? We’ll also need to know where we might find them now, if you have that knowledge.”

He blinked, nodding. Jack pulled his notepad and a pen from his pocket, handing them to Baz, who went to work on the list.

Jack turned to Rosemary.

“I’m not sure how much we’ll be able to help. I have no jurisdiction here. But if we talk to the people who were at the house, perhaps we can get some answers for you. I’d very much like to talk to the police on scene, to find out how they settled on Lucy so quickly, but I’m not sure they’ll talk to me.”

“I may be able to help there, Jack,” Phryne said. 

In response to his questioning look, she tilted her head, rolling her eyes a bit.

“A made an acquaintance a few months back when I was here with Father, he works in the office of the Legislative Council. Perhaps he’d be willing to pave the way for us. And if possible, help us get in to see Lucy.”

Of course, thought Jack. She’d spent barely two days in Singapore on her way to England and managed to meet a man. At least her irresistible charm might work to his benefit this time.

Baz handed the notebook back to Jack.

“That is everyone I can remember,” he said.

“Thank you. And what information did you share with the police?” Jack asked.

“Not much. They only inquired as to my whereabouts. They didn’t ask me about anything else.”

“And how quickly did they move to arrest Lucy.”

“Let me think,” Baz said. “I seem to recall two policemen. They spoke individually to most of us that were gathered in the parlour. Asking where we were and what we’d seen or heard. Lucy sat in the corner. Tony was with her, he had his arm about her, she was very distraught. Then a third officer entered, spoke with the first two and they arrested Lucy directly. It was less than an hour since they’d arrived. Jo’s body hadn’t yet been removed.”

“That is fast,” Phryne said. “What could they have learned in so short a time?”

Baz looked at her, alarmed.

“That really is all I can remember,” he said. “Perhaps I should see Rosemary home now.”

“No!” she said, “I need to see Lucy. I will go hound them at the door until they let me in to see her!”

“I think it might be best for you to go home for the time being,” Jack said, gently. “We will try to find this friend of Miss Fisher’s and see if he can help us gain access. We will be in touch as soon as we know something.

 

And, Baz,” he continued, “If you think of anything else, please let me know. After you’ve had some rest, I’d like to speak again, to see if anything more has come to mind. How can I find you later?”

“Of course,” Baz said. “Anything I can do to help. I will leave word at the desk when I’m available.”

He took Rosemary’s arm to escort her out.

“Oh, Baz,” Phryne said, stopping him, “Just one thing. You said both Charlie and Josephine had a lot of blood on them.”

“Yes, I nearly fainted.”

“What about Lucy? When you saw her in the parlour, did she have any blood on her.”

“No,” he said, looking puzzled, “I don’t believe she did.”

“But you did,” Rosemary said.

“What?” Baz glanced anxiously in her direction.

“When you came to my home, you had blood on your front, and your hands.”

“Yes,” he said. “That’s right. When I got to Charlie, he was hysterical. I could see the blood, but didn’t know where it came from. I thought he was hurt. I tried to locate the wound.”

“But I see no blood now,” said Jack, looking Baz over. He still wore his formal tuxedo jacket. It was buttoned up securely.

“It was on my waistcoat mostly. I removed it before coming here.”

Phryne took his hands and pushed his jacket sleeves up to see the cuffs of his shirt. They’d been rolled back back from his wrists to keep the edges hidden. They were stained with rather a lot of blood.

“As I said, I touched him,” Baz repeated.

“And Josephine? Did you touch her? To see if perhaps she was still alive?” Phryne asked.

“No, there was no point.” He turned sadly, leading Rosemary to the door.

Phryne left to make a call to her acquaintance. He agreed to meet with them at his office in two hours. In the meantime he would look into Lucy’s arrest and see if he could arrange for her Aunt to visit her.

Jack and Phryne decided to begin their inquiries with Charlie and hailed a cab to to his estate.

His manservant answered the door and informed them that the master was not receiving visitors. They explained that they didn’t wish to disturb and only needed a small amount of his time. A woman’s voice rang sharply through the hall.

“Tell them he is indisposed, and not available to visitors.”

Anna came forward from the parlour.

“Mr. Robinson, Miss Fisher!” she said in surprise. “I’m so sorry, but Charlie is unwell, he will not be able to attend a visit today. Perhaps another time.”

Phryne stepped forward, grasping the woman’s hand.

Oh, Anna,” she exclaimed sympathetically. “We’ve only just heard the horrible news! How dreadful. It is so wonderful of you to stay and look after poor Charlie.”

“Yes, well,” Anna was flustered, “I couldn’t very well leave him alone, he is in shock and absolutely shattered.”

“I can only imagine,” Phryne replied. “Would it be possible for us to have a word with him? You see, Rosemary Whitehall is very concerned for Lucy and has asked us to look into the circumstances surrounding this morning’s events.”

At the sound of Lucy’s name, Anna’s face became hard as a stone.

“That is quite impossible,” she said. “The doctor has given Charlie a sedative and he is finally asleep. I will not wake him.”

“Of course,” said Jack, coming forward. “But, would you consent to speak briefly with us? If only to shed some light on the events, for Miss Whitehall? I’m sure you will understand that she is desperate about her niece.”

“I’m sure she is,” Anna sniffed. “And I have sympathy, she is a nice woman. But I don’t see how I can be of any comfort to her. As far as I’m concerned Lucy should hang.”

“You’re convinced she’s guilty?” asked Phryne.

“Oh, I’m sure of it. You can’t doubt it, can you? Not after the way she came after you. And later, it was the same with Josephine. I saw her following Jo down the hall, shouting at her.”

“What was she shouting?” 

“Some nonsense about Jo using Charlie, mistreating him and not being good enough for him. She was raving like a lunatic. Obviously smashed.”

“Did you tell this to the police?” Jack asked.

“Of course I did. I told them all if it. How Lucy had been miserable since the day Charlie threw her over and took up with Jo, so consumed with jealousy that she couldn’t see straight.”

“After you witnessed her confrontation with Josephine, did you see Lucy again?”

“Not until we were all called into the parlour by the police.”

“And did you notice anything unusual about her then? How was her demeanor?”

“She was distraught, like all of us. And her dress was wet. My guess is she was trying to wash out the blood before being seen by the police.”

“Her dress was wet?” Jack repeated.

“Yes,” Anna said, “Soaked through, as though she’d run it under the sink.”

“Thank you,” Jack said. “Would you mind writing down the names of the other people present in the parlour this morning? It’d be much appreciated, and then we will get out of your hair.” 

Anna looked a bit put out, but told them to wait in the hall while she made out the list.

“She seems very convinced of Lucy’s guilt,” Phryne said.

“Yes,” Jack agreed. “And also very defensive of Charlie. I hadn’t realized they were so close.”

“She told me she’d known him for years. They’d had a dalliance, long ago, but it ended amicably and they remained friends.”

“When did you learn all this?”

“Last night.”

“She certainly was forthcoming about her private life with a total stranger,” Jack said.

“Some people are just more casual about these things, Jack,” said Phryne. “A small dalliance is nothing to be ashamed of!”

“Is there any other information you gleaned last night that might prove helpful?”

“Now that you mention it, I did hear some things about your friend Mr. Pickering.”

Anna returned to the hall, preventing Phryne from continuing.

“Here,” Anna said, handing a sheet of paper to Jack. “That’s everyone I can recall. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go check on Charlie.”

“Thank you for your time,” Jack said. “Please ask Mr. Lacey if he will phone us when he is able to speak with us.” 

They took their leave.

In the cab back, Phryne filled Jack in on what she’d learned about Baz and how he apparently relied on Charlie for financial assistance.

“Did he tell you he was staying at our hotel?” she asked.

“I don’t recall if he ever said that, I just assumed he was.”

“And another thing,” she said. “Today, when he mentioned seeing the blood on Charlie and Josephine, he said he nearly fainted. And when I exposed the blood on his cuffs, he went green around the gills.”

“Some people are bothered by the sight of blood, Phryne.”

“But if he was an ambulance driver during the war, Jack? Believe me, he couldn’t get queasy at the sight of a little blood, or he’d have been useless.”

“I see your point,” he said. Jack took his notebook from his pocket and compared the list Baz had provided with Anna’s list.

“They seem to have provided the same names,“ he said. “It will take awhile to contact all these people. Perhaps we should check in with your friend. If he can get us in to see Lucy, she may be able to provide some information to narrow our search.”


	18. Chapter 18

“Miss Fisher! What a pleasant surprise! I had despaired of ever seeing you again.”

“Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Gilson,” Phryne replied.

Gilson came forward eagerly, pressing Phryne’s hand between his.

Ah, yes, thought Jack. Young, tall, good looking. He wondered what other enticements this man had to offer. Jack watched closely. The yearning in the man’s eyes and his alert body language told him that Gilson and Phryne had not been intimate.

He tried to count the weeks, wondering when it would have been that they met. Would it have been before she’d written him, to tell him he was missed? He heard his name being mentioned and pulled himself back to the present.

“...Detective Inspector Jack Robinson,” Phryne was saying.

Jack shook the man’s hand.

“Miss Fisher mentioned that you are a policeman?”

“Yes,” Jack answered.

“I’m sure you realize you have no standing in a local case? What is your interest in it?”

His second question was directed at Phryne, Jack seeming to be of little importance to the man.

“We have made the acquaintance of Miss Jones and her aunt. Miss Whitehall is looking for assistance. She wishes very much to visit with her niece, to see that she is being well treated.” Phryne said. “George,” she placed a hand on the man’s chest and looked intently into his eyes. “I told her you were just the man to help. I hope I haven’t presumed too much?”

Jack hid a smile, watching as the Gilson’s eyes softened and his face reddened slightly. He had been on the receiving end of her charms often enough himself to feel some sympathy for the poor man.

“Of course not, I’m happy to do what I can, and if you can get your friend here within the hour, she will be allowed to see her niece for a brief visit,” Gilson said, “but, I must warn you, I’ve spoken to a friend with the police and they seem certain they have the right person in custody.”

“Did they tell why they are so convinced of her guilt?”

“It appears they have a strong statement from a witness that saw her in a heated argument with the victim earlier in the evening, and several others have confirmed that Miss Jones was intoxicated and acting erratically.”

The second description fit more than half the people at that party, thought Phryne.

“I see,” she replied. “Perhaps when we are able to talk with Miss Jones she will shed some additional light on the events.”

“I’m afraid you may have misunderstood, Miss Fisher. Miss Whitehall will be allowed to see her niece, but we cannot allow a police detective from outside the jurisdiction to speak with a suspect.”

“Please, George, call me Phryne,” she said, blinking up at him with a dazzling smile. “Surely they will allow me to accompany Miss Whitehall, for moral support? You could arrange that, couldn’t you?”

The man beamed. “I may be able to make that happen. Perhaps you would like come with me, Phryne? You can use my office to phone your friend and wait there for her to arrive.”

“Yes,” said Jack, “Why don’t you do that Miss Fisher, while I will go make some other inquiries.”

“An excellent idea, Inspector,” she said. “Shall we meet later at the hotel, to compare notes?”

He inclined his head and watched as she took Gilson’s arm to accompany him to his office.

Several hours later, Jack and Phryne were in the sitting room of their suite, drink in hand, sharing with each other what they had learned.

“This feels rather familiar, Jack,” she said, smiling at him.

“The location is not as comfortable, nor the whiskey as fine, but yes, there is a familiarity to it.”

“I am relieved to see we are still able to work together effectively.”

“Did you think we wouldn’t?” he asked.

“I wasn’t sure,” she said “But the way you handled things with George Gilson was most surprising. I thought perhaps you’d be reluctant to leave me with him, or might try to interject some authority.”

“No need to prevaricate,” he said “You thought I’d be jealous, and act domineering. Did I disappoint you?”

“A little jealousy might have been nice,” she admitted, shrugging. “Gilson was certainly jealous of you, asking all manner of questions, after you’d left, trying to ascertain the nature of our relationship.”

“And I’m sure you were sufficiently vague in your answers.”

“Well, it wouldn’t help to let the man know there is no hope. We may need him again before this is settled.”

“My thoughts exactly, which is why I did my best to hide my burning rage at his attentions to you,” Jack said dramatically.

“Now you’re making fun! I’ve made you so sure of me, you don’t even pretend to be concerned about other men,” she pouted.

“That is not entirely true,” he said, this time without the mocking tone. “In fact, I had in mind a plan to make you forget you ever laid eyes on that man, or any other, later tonight.”

“That sounds promising,” she purred.

“But first, Miss Fisher, I think we better discuss our findings while I still have a clear head.”

“Of course Inspector, work first. I’ll delay any attempts to make you lose your head.”

As it turned out, Lucy vehemently denied killing Josephine or having any confrontation with her at all. She was remorseful in regard to her treatment of Phryne, apologizing and saying she’d had too much to drink. In fact, she had started drinking even before arriving at the party, in an attempt to bolster her courage to face Charlie with Josephine, after the humiliating way he’d thrown her over.

“The thing is, Jack,” Phryne said. “I’m not so sure she was that much in love with Charlie. I think it more likely that her pride was hurt when he moved on to Josephine. She seemed to feel inadequate compared to Miss Bette. She had hoped to go to that party, hold her head high, and show everyone that she was over it. She did ask me to pass on her apologies to you. She knows she made you uncomfortable and is very grateful that we are willing to try to help her. She still thinks highly of you.”

“I only hope we can help her,” he said. “I find it hard to believe her capable of any kind of real violence. She doesn’t seem the type.”

“No,” agreed Phryne. “And according to what Gilson learned, Josephine suffered some intense violence. She died from multiple stab wounds, inflicted with some force. I’d venture that whoever killed her was very angry.”

“That isn’t compatible with what I learned about Lucy’s behavior shortly before the murder,” said Jack.

Jack had spoken with a few of the other names on the list, including Tony, while Phryne was at the jail. Tony had spent a good portion the waning part of the evening with Lucy. In fact, not ten minutes before Charlie emerged from the house with Josephine, he said he’d pulled a very drunken Lucy from the fountain out front. He said she was behaving in a very silly manner, laughing and trying to pull him into the water with her. He’d taken her to a bathroom, so she could dry off, while he went in search of some coffee for her.

“That would explain her wet clothing,” said Phryne. “Did he see a confrontation between Lucy and Josephine?”

“He did not,” Jack said. “In fact, he is sure that no such confrontation ever took place. He said the only times Lucy was out of his sight were while he danced with you, and when he left her in the bathroom after the fountain. No one else I spoke with was witness to the argument Anna described.”

“So what do we know so far,” she said. “The only one who saw Lucy argue with Josephine is Anna. Tony’s description of the evening would seem to make such a confrontation unlikely. In my own conversation with Lucy, she denies being angry with Josephine, seeming more intimidated by the woman than anything else. Baz claims to have been alone out on the lawn in the moments just before the death was discovered. And he also seems to have inflated his own circumstances, not letting on that he relied on Charlie for money, and may be lying about aspects of his past. What of your other inquiries?”

“Not much of interest there,” he said, “I was able to eliminate the need to speak to several people, as others provided their alibi. A large group was indeed together on the beach. And, most of them appear to have no more than a passing connection with Charlie or Josephine. They knew Charlie only as a jovial, young man who threw large parties and didn’t care who showed up.”

“I do wish we’d been able to speak with Charlie Lacey,” Phryne said.

“Yes,” Jack agreed. “Perhaps tomorrow, but I fear Anna will prove to be a stubborn gate keeper.”

“She is very protective. And she seemed surprisingly comfortable giving orders in his home too. That’s curious, don’t you think?”

Jack nodded.

“Perhaps we should try to learn a bit more about her.”

“Yes,” Jack said. “I don’t even recall learning her surname. Rosemary Whitehall may be able shed some light on Anna, and help us get to the bottom of Baz’s story.”

“Well then,” said Phryne, “Since there is not much more to be discovered tonight, I suggest we retire to the next room Inspector.”

 

* * *

 

Phryne lay curled into Jack’s side, his arm was around her and her head lay in the hollow between his chest and shoulder. Her right leg pressed into his hip, while her left lay between his warm thighs.

“I like this way of ending our evening nightcaps, Jack,” she said.

“As do I,” he said, sleepily.

“So, it would appear we will be able to continue our work together once we return home. But how will we handle the rest of this?” she asked, running her hand over his chest, the taut muscles of his abdomen and down to rest on his hip. He smiled.

“I have no complaints over how you handle my body, Miss Fisher,” he said. “Do you have reason to believe that will change?”

“I do not doubt my abilities to please you, no,” she said. “But will you be comfortable with others knowing that we are lovers?”

“I have a feeling there are plenty who believed we were already lovers, don’t you?”

“Yes, but gossip and suspicions are just that. What of when it is known, as it inevitably will be? Will you stay with me overnight, and be comfortable with my staff’s knowledge of that? I have never hidden my behavior from my household.”

He felt sick thinking of the other men who had no doubt been politely escorted from her home by the inestimable Mr. Butler. He very much liked the man, and wouldn’t want to be thought less of by him.

“I honestly don’t know Phryne,” he said. “I will want to, that is certain. I like waking up in bed with you.”

She raised a cheeky eyebrow.

“And everything else we do in bed,” he admitted. “But, maybe we can take it slowly? Perhaps ease in to it?”

“What are you suggesting? That we court, Jack? Go on a few chaste dates, where at the end you kiss me at the door, and go on your way? I think we are beyond that.”

He knew she was right. He could no longer imagine leaving her side and going home to his lonely bed at night. But it was one thing while they were here, on their own. Back home he had his job and reputation to consider. She was well known, and his brief experience with the society page’s fascination with her had taught him a few things.

“No,” he said. “You’re right. I won’t give this up. We will figure it out, but I do think we’ll need to be discreet. I don’t want to give the commissioner ammunition to bar me from working with you. But first, we have a more urgent problem to solve and I think we best get some sleep.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Phryne continue their investigations finding unanswered questions and too many suspects.

After breakfast, their first stop was the home of Rosemary Whitehall. Unlike the previous time Jack had been there, it was quiet, with only Rosemary in residence. She looked tired, and much older than she’d appeared only a two nights earlier.

“Thank you for helping me to see Lucy,” she said as they sat around her table. She’d made them tea, and her cup sat growing cold, untouched, before her. “She seemed to be holding up alright, didn’t she?” she said, looking anxiously to Phryne.

“Yes,” Phryne said reassuringly. “She is a strong young lady.”

“I’ve hired a solicitor for her, but he is not hopeful.” she said sadly. “I don’t know what I’ll do if...” she trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Jack covered her hand with his, sympathetically. He liked this woman. She had been so lively the other night. So welcoming and generous with her home and hospitality. He very much wanted to help her.

“What can you tell us about Anna?” he asked. “She seems to have provided the most incriminating evidence against Lucy.”

“Anna?” Rosemary said in surprise. “What does she say?”

“She claims to have witnessed an angry altercation between your niece and Josephine Bette. Her statement seems to have gone a long way in convincing the police to arrest Lucy. How long have you known her?”

“I met her a few years ago, with Charlie. He was a frequent visitor to Singapore, before purchasing his home here. He came into my shop one day seeking a gift for a lady friend. We became friendly, and he often comes to visit me when he’s in town.”

“Is Anna always with him?”

“Off and on through the years. I got the impression she sometimes traveled with him.”

“Do you know where she lives, or what her last name is?” Jack asked.

“No, I don’t,” she said, slightly puzzled by the realization. “I guess I don’t know much about her at all. She always arrives with Charlie, but he often moves on to other engagements. She will sometimes stay behind with us for awhile, if he doesn’t want her along.”

“And Baz?” Phryne asked, “How did you meet him?”

“I met him through Charlie as well, she said. “Just within the last few months. People often come and go. I’m afraid I don’t always get to know them well, but Baz was very kind to me yesterday.”

“You don’t know how he and Charlie met?”

“No, but I believe the acquaintance is fairly recent. Within the last several months anyway.”

“And do you know where Baz resides?”

“He told me he is staying in a small bedsit not far from here. I have the address, if you’d like it.”

“That would be helpful, thank you,” Jack said.

“How did Lucy come to be involved with Charlie?” Phryne asked.

“That falls on me,” Rosemary said, smiling ruefully. “And obviously, it is something I’ll regret the rest of my days.

When her mother became ill, I promised I would look after Lucy, and I was glad to have her come to me. She hasn’t had a happy upbringing. My sister did her best, but she made one very bad choice that ruined her life,” Rosemary said bitterly.

Phryne and Jack waited for her to continue.

“I loved my sister, but she was a naive dreamer. She let herself be swept off her feet by a worthless man. He was always sure his big break was just around the corner. He never had a steady job and resented being held down by a wife and child. He left when Lucy was just three and it’s been hard ever since. Then my sister became ill, and Lucy had to leave school and go to work.

When I saw how taken Charlie was with her, I didn’t discourage the relationship. I thought Charlie would be a bit of fun. She was always such a quiet and serious girl. She needed some frivolity in her life.”

“Was Lucy in love with Charlie?” Phryne asked.

“I don't think so. She was flattered by his attention and he showed her a lifestyle she could only have imagined. I think she was just having fun. When he ended it abruptly, it hurt her pride. She only went to that party to show him it didn’t bother her.”

Phryne had thought the same thing, but Lucy had been wasting her time. It wouldn’t have mattered to Charlie, she was no longer of any interest to him.

"Do you think there is any hope for her?” Rosemary asked, desperately. “Or are you as convinced of her guilt as everyone else seems to be?”

“I would not want to get your hopes up,” Jack said, “But there is a lot we don’t know.  I, for one, am not convinced of her guilt. And, there are others. Tony seems most convinced of her innocence.”

Rosemary smiled. “Tony would find it hard to think ill of anyone. He is a sweet boy.”

“Have you known him long?”

“Yes, his father was a naval officer stationed in Singapore. I am acquainted with his mother, and have known Tony since he was a boy.”

“What is his connection with the others?” Jack asked.

“His only real connection is me. He met them here. He’s been coming to our evening gatherings more often lately. He is friendly enough, but prefers quieter pursuits, not usually one for large parties and such. I was a bit surprised he chose to go to Charlie’s the other night, but was happy to see him coming out of his shell.”

“Rosemary, I think we very much need to speak with Charlie, but yesterday we were turned away. How well do you know him? Might you have some sway with him?” Jack asked.

“I like to think we are good friends,” she said. “He doesn’t have much to occupy his days, and will sometimes come to my studio, and talk with me while I work. He is fond of me and told me once that I reminded him of a favorite nanny he’d had when he was young," she smiled, sadly.

“Do you think you could convince him to speak with us?”

“I can try,” she said. “I haven’t spoken to him since all this happened. I had no idea what to say, but I have wanted to reach out. I know he can be a cad, but I’m rather fond of him. Will you wait with me, while I place the phone call?”

In the end, Charlie agreed to meet with Phryne and Jack, so they left for his house immediately, before he could change his mind.

“Rosemary appears to be mother to all, and I think she has a bit of her sister's naiveté,” Phryne remarked, once they were outside.

They encountered Tony on the path, on his way to Rosemary.

“You’ve just come from her?” he asked. “I’m sure she appreciated the visit. It is most unfair that Miss Whitehall should have to endure this, when she has always been so kind to everyone.”

“She has a big heart,” said Jack

“Sometimes she is generous to a fault,” Tony said.

“How so?” Phryne asked.

“I wouldn’t want to speak ill of him, but I never understood what she found redeeming about Charlie Lacey. He is a selfish being if ever there was one. And had Lucy never met him...” he said, growing more agitated. “I can’t bear to think of her in that awful place. I understand you saw her yesterday? How is she?” he asked anxiously.

“She is holding up.”

“She could not have done this. She is innocent, I’m sure of it,” he said.

He blushed slightly, and gave them a small smile. “But, I’m keeping you. I’m sure you have places to be. And I should look in on Rosemary.”

He shook their hands, and they took their leave.

“He is in love with her,” said Phryne.

“With Rosemary? She’s old enough to be his mother.”

“Not Rosemary! He loves Lucy!” she said. “Really Jack, what kind of detective are you?” she looked up to see him smiling slyly.

“Of course you knew,” she said smacking him.

“It was rather obvious, poor boy. Another life ruined should Lucy be guilty. And if she didn’t do it, an innocent soul will hang while a murderer goes free.”

“Not if we can help it, Jack,” Phryne said, taking his arm.

This time Anna answered Charlie’s door herself, and again insisted Charlie was unavailable.

“Mr. Lacey is expecting us,” Jack told her.

“I’m afraid I will have to disappoint you,” she said, “Regardless of what that women may have convinced him to do, he is no fit state to receive anyone.”

“Anna, please, let them in,” came a quiet voice from behind her.

Charlie stepped to the door. He looked terrible, as though he’d neither slept or bathed in days.

“Mr. Lacey,” Phryne said, stepping forward, past Anna. “Allow me to express our deepest condolences. I am so very sorry for your loss, we both are,” she said, nodding toward Jack.

“Thank you, Miss Fisher; Mr. Robinson. Please come into the sitting room. Anna, have some tea brought in for my guests and then continue with the packing.”

“Packing?” said Phryne. “Are you leaving, Mr. Lacey?”

“Yes,” Charlie said. “As soon as possible. I can’t bear to be here. I can’t pass through the hall without seeing her there.”

“If I may I ask,” Phryne began, “How did you meet Miss Bette?”

“It was in Paris,” he said. “At a party. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on. She wouldn’t have me at first. She had many admirers, but I was determined. Even after I left France, I wrote to her, and sent her gifts. I was finally able to win her over and convinced her to join me here.”

“Yet, during that time, while you were wooing her, you began a relationship with Lucy Jones?” Phryne asked.

“That was just a bit of fun,” he said defensively. “I never told Lucy it was anything more. I underestimated her immaturity. She became far too attached to me, and I will forever regret my involvement with her.”

“Then you think her responsible for Josephine’s death,” Jack said.

“The police are convinced of it. I knew she was upset over my ending our relationship. Anna often mentioned how she was still in love with me and jealous of my Josephine.”

“Anna seems to be a close acquaintance of yours. What is the nature of your relationship, if you don’t mind telling us,” Phryne asked.

“Anna is my assistant,” he answered.

“Your assistant?” Phryne said. “I understood it to be a more personal relationship.”

He shrugged. “That ended a long time ago. But, somehow she never really left. She just began taking care of things for me, and eventually I found it easier to have her around. She wanted to see more of the world, and I like to travel, so it seemed an ideal arrangement to hire her. She’s been with me several years now. I couldn’t find my hat without her.”

“You said you can’t pass through the hall,” Jack said. “I hate to ask, but is that where you found Miss Bette? And, where were you just before discovering her?”

Charlie’s face hardened. He spoke automatically, without emotion.

“I had just met with the staff about clearing up the ballroom, since the party had wound down. Then I went in search of Jo, and found her on the floor in the hallway. I picked her up, carrying her outside to try to find help. I had hopes she was still alive. I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

“Would you mind showing us?”

He stood, without a word, and took them down the hall, stopping at a spot just beyond the ballroom. There was a long, oriental carpet running the length of the floor.

“She was here?” Jack asked. Charlie nodded. “And where do you think she was going? What is at the other end?”

“My personal chambers and the room Josephine was staying in,” he answered. He walked with them to the end of the hall, and briefly let them view the two rooms, situated across the hall from each other.

“Where are Anna’s quarters?” Phryne asked.

“She has a room in the other wing, with the rest of my staff.”

“I’m wondering,” said Phryne. “Why did you go to meet with the staff? Isn’t that something Anna would have taken care of?”

“Normally, yes,” he said. “But I couldn’t find her, and didn’t want to leave it, so I spoke to them myself. If there is nothing else, I find I’m rather tired.”

“Of course, just one more question,” said Jack. “How do you know Sebastian Pickering?”

“Baz?” he said, as though he couldn’t imagine the relevance. “I picked him up somewhere along the way. He’s a convenient companion. Always a willing to keep me company.”

“Anna tells me you’ve helped him out from time to time. That is most generous of you,” Phryne said. He waved his hand, magnanimously.

“He struggles to get by and I have more than I need. It’s nothing really.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Lacey, and again, let me express our condolences,” Jack said. “We can show ourselves out.”

They left the house and walked toward the main street in search of transportation.

“Did you see the floor in that bedroom?” Phryne asked. “The one he said Josephine stayed in?”

“You mean the way it was light at the edges, but darker in the center?”

“Clearly there had been a rug there. In place long enough for the floors to have faded around it.”

“It’s possible it was there with the previous owners, and he never had one put in,” said Jack.

“Possible, but unlikely, and it is at the very least curious,” she said. “Besides, there is no way Josephine lay in that hallway. Not even Dot could remove that much blood, and that rug was spotless. He is lying about where he found Josephine.”

“And what became of the murder weapon?” asked Jack. “Are we to believe Lucy took it with her? And hid it where?”

“None of this makes sense,” Phryne said. “Lucy’s arrest was highly premature.”

“I agree. It was sloppy police work,”

“I know not everyone can be Jack Robinson, but ‘sloppy’ is too generous. This was either incredibly lazy or incompetent,” she said.

“And I’m still confused about where Baz fits in to all of this, if he does at all. He may simply be a hanger on, taking advantage of Charlie’s easy way with money. I think perhaps I should visit him on my own, if you don’t mind. He is a different person in your presence, and may be more forthcoming if I’m alone.”

“If you think that best,” she said. “I’ll head back to the hotel. We can go to dinner when you’ve finished with him.”

He hailed a cab and put her in, then went to find one for himself.


	20. Chapter 20

Jack let himself into the suite. He’d been longer than expected with Baz, and wondered if Phryne had gone on to eat without him. He found her curled up sleeping on the couch, wearing her dressing gown.

Shutting the door quietly, he took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and sat down across from her. He found watching her at repose captivating. Awake she was in constant motion, her hands flying as she spoke, or a foot bouncing up and down at the end of a crossed leg.

Even when she appeared to be sitting still, she wasn’t really. If you paid close attention, or sat at her side, it was evident. The energy crackled and radiated from her. Her spirit was so lively, it was impossible to contain.

Except in sleep. She slept like the dead. Sometimes, he’d wake to find her spread so wide over the bed that he was clinging to the edge to stay atop. All he had to do was turn to her, and caress her lightly, or whisper her name. She would sigh, and roll over, curling into his arms without waking.

Watching her now, he felt his heart swell in his chest, and a lump form in his throat. He hadn’t known it was possible to love someone as much as he loved her.

He’d always been a self-reliant man, it was a source of pride for him. It had seen him through the war, gotten him through the breakdown of his marriage, and he felt it made him a good detective. He may not have been exceedingly happy, but he’d been fine.

Then she had came along, and in no time at all, woven herself into the fabric of his life, until she was as essential to him as the air he breathed. He even found his work less satisfying without her. Yet, somehow, he didn’t mind. Everything about this felt right.

He sat and watched her for several more minutes, then got up and went to clean up a bit before waking her to go to dinner.

Phryne woke from her nap and could hear movement in the next room. She went to the bedroom and leaned in the doorway, looking at a now familiar scene. Jack was at the dresser, in his undershirt and trousers, his braces hanging loose from his waist. His feet were bare and his hair wet from the bath.

She was very comfortable sharing a space with him. She liked walking into a room and finding him there. Even this afternoon, when he wasn’t here, she knew he would soon be returning, because all his things were here, mingled with her own. His book on the side table. His shaving brush by the sink.

No one could ever have convinced her that she could feel like this, but now she understood. There are some people in your life that you are meant to love, and you have very little say in the matter. And it was wonderful.

He caught her eye in the mirror and smiled.

“Did you have a nice nap?”

“Why didn’t you wake me when you came in?”

He shrugged. “You looked peaceful. And it’s been a long two days, I thought you could use the rest.”

As much as she liked working to solve another mystery with him, she slightly resented the intrusion into their time together. She went to him and wrapped her arms around him, her head resting against his broad back.

“It’s put a bit of a damper on our holiday, hasn’t it,” she said.

“What has?”

“This case. These few days were supposed to be relaxing.”

He turned, wrapping her in his arms.

“That is my fault,” he said. “If I hadn’t gone out and met Baz that night, we’d be blissfully unaware of all of it.”

“But then a young girl would hang for a murder she may not have committed. I can’t be so selfish as to wish for that.”

She leaned up and kissed him sweetly, then went to sit on the bed.

“Speaking of that, I called George Gilson. I suggested he speak to his contacts at the police and have them revisit the crime scene to inquire about a missing bedroom rug.”

“Good thinking.”

“Come here,” she said, patting the bed next to her. “Tell me what you learned from Baz.”

“If I sit down on that bed next to you, I won’t get up, and you must be starving. I know I am. I’ll fill you in at dinner.”

They opted for a casual meal that night since neither were in the mood for the formality of the hotel dining room. They found a cozy establishment nearby, where they enjoyed a delicious chicken and rice dish, and a bowl of minced pork and noodle soup. As he tucked into his meal, Jack told Phryne about his visit with Baz.

“He has not been honest,” he said, “but I’m not sure he is a murderer.”

“What has he lied about?” she asked.

“What he hasn’t lied about would be the shorter list,” Jack answered. “He is from Indiana, that was true. But little else is.”

Jack explained that the life story Baz had told was largely fictional. He had not, as Phryne suspected, been a member of any ambulance corp during the war. He had also never run with the bulls or even been to Spain. He had borrowed liberally from the life of his idol, the writer Earnest Hemingway.

He did want to be a writer, but had only one story ever published. That was five years previous, in a small, hometown periodical. He’d showed Jack a tattered copy.

Since then, there’d been nothing but rejection letters. He survived by finding odd jobs and ingratiating himself to generous strangers, like Charlie and Rosemary. Making himself more interesting had facilitated those friendships.

He’d hit the jackpot when he’d met Charlie, who for some reason, took a liking to him and always covered the tab on their nights out on the town.

He’d begun to follow Charlie to different cities, enjoying the lifestyle he made available. He’d almost entirely abandoned his writing pursuits and spent most of his time at Charlie’s beck and call. His primary duty being to help Charlie shed any no longer desired companions, of which there had been many.

Charlie had an appetite, seeking a new woman to satisfy him often. These women rarely lasted more than a few days, and when Charlie tired of one, it was left to Baz to see that she went quietly. In return Charlie had been generous with Baz.

Lately things had changed. Charlie hadn’t called on Baz as often, preferring to go out with Josephine on his arm. Over the last few weeks, the flow of cash had stalled.

“That must have been of concern to him,” Phryne said.

“He admits it was a challenge, but claims to have been relieved” Jack continued. “He said he’d begun to be ashamed of himself. He planned to renew his devotion to writing, and was determined to live a more authentic life.”

“Do you believe him?”

“He’s a good liar,” was Jack’s response. “He claimed to be telling the truth about the night of the party, but did admit to one omission.”

Baz had told Jack that at one point in the evening, a very angry Charlie had approached him and told him to see that a certain young man was kept away from Jo. In fact, he wanted the man removed from the party altogether. When asked why, Charlie said only that he wouldn’t be made to look a fool in his own home.

Baz had found the man, plied him with drink, and then pushed him into a cab.

“I wonder if that would be the young man I saw Josephine dancing with,” mused Phryne. “He was quite handsome and they were very cozy. Charlie was nearby, watching closely.”

“Did he look upset?”

“It was hard to say, but, it was a provocative dance, and one that I imagine would make any beau rather jealous.”

Jack inclined his head.

“That depends on how much the man feels he can trust the woman. A dance is sometimes just a dance. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes,” she said, reaching across the table to take his hand. “But it still takes an extraordinary man to have such confidence.”

“Or, an extraordinary woman to instill it,” he replied, his eyes locking onto hers.

“Either way,” She said, smiling back at him. “I don’t think Charlie an extraordinary man, unless it is extraordinarily revolting.”

“What do you make of Anna?” Jack asked. “She is strangely devoted to him and I can’t see why. In fact, I fail to understand his appeal to women at all.”

“He is wealthy, young and good looking,” she laughed. “For some woman, that is more than enough.”

“Is Anna in love with him, do you think? Or, like Baz, just interested in the lifestyle he provides her?” He asked.

“Perhaps a bit of both,” she replied.

They paid their bill and walked, hand in hand back to the hotel, ready to leave the investigation behind for awhile.

They prepared for bed quietly. Jack donning his pajama pants, while Phryne took the top, as had become habit on the nights they didn’t fall naked into bed. Once under the covers he reached for her, pulling her into a passionate embrace and kissing her deeply.

“Why did I bother to put this on?” she laughed.

“Because you know it drives me mad to see you in it,” he said, “and to get you out of it.”

She raised her arms as he lifted his pajama top off, over her head.

“And I prefer you out of these,” she said, tugging at the waistband of his pants. He obliged her before taking her back into his arms.

There was such longing in his touch, and in his kiss. He moved reverently over her body, worshipping her. She burned under him. Each kiss from his lips, and caress of his hand, lighting an ember within her until she was set wholly ablaze.

He moved his hands over her soft, warm body. His mouth found her bared breast, his tongue teasing the pebbled skin and firm nipple as his hand slipped between her thighs.

She ran her hands over every part of him she could reach. She loved the feel of him. The smooth skin, stretched over firm muscles and taut tendons. Her fingers explored every inch. The sharp points of his shoulder blades, the ridges of his spine, the dip, just below his waist, before she reached the firm, rounded curves of his magnificent ass. She squeezed his flesh and heard him moan as she pressed him to her.

He rose over her and she slid her hand around to grip him firmly.

“Do you love me?” she asked, drawing him between her thighs.

“You know I do,” he breathed.

“I want to hear you say it,” she demanded.

He slipped inside her with a sigh, and looked into her eyes.

“I love you,” he said, as he began to move slowly within her.

She rose to meet him, to take him deeper, shifting her hips and bringing her knees up around him so that he would hit the spot deep inside her.

She sighed. “I love you too. Only you.”

She was warm and eager. Her eyes dark with desire, her lips parted and slightly swollen from his kisses. Her hands moved up his back as her body arched into his. He felt his power, emboldened by the response he could bring in her.

She let out a long, guttural moan, dragging her nails down his back, the pain drawing his focus, allowing him to hold on longer, take her higher.

He wanted to wreck her. To bring her pleasure like she’d never known. He doubled his efforts, sliding a hand under her to raise her hips from the bed, his other arm braced to give him purchase, trying to find all her most sensitive places.

The warmth of his hand caressing her brought a new thrill to her body, as a rush of blood sped to her core. She clenched around him, wrapping a leg around his back.

His lips found hers, his tongue moving against her own, mimicking the actions of his hips.

She groaned, pulling back and gasping for air.

“Oh, Jack!” she screamed.

His name on her lips made him shatter. She shook around him, and he felt the rush of their simultaneous release.

As he collapsed at her side, a bubbling joy began building low in his belly, and he couldn’t stop from laughing. Not a loud, raucous, belly laugh, or a rumbling chuckle. This was far more embarrassing.

“Jack Robinson, did you just giggle?” she asked, still very out of breath.

At that he let out a snort, losing his fight to hold back more laughter. It was a rush of emotion like nothing he’d ever felt before, and he had no control over it.

She sat up, staring at him in bewildered amusement.

“Should I be insulted?” she asked.

“No!” he cried, reaching to pull her back to him, his chest heaving as he breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. “I don’t know what that was, but, honestly, it felt amazing. You are incredible,” he said.

“Alright then,” she said, letting him fold her back into his arms. She felt very light, and a little giddy herself. “You’re rather incredible too,” she said, smiling.

After a few minutes their sweat soaked bodies began to feel a chill and he sat up to pull the covers over them. She snuggled back in, letting him warm her.

“You make me very happy, Phryne,” he said. “And I don’t just mean in bed.”

“Likewise,” she replied.

She placed her hand on his cheek, raking her eyes over the now familiar and beloved features. His piercing eyes, and arresting cheekbones. The slightly upturned nose and slack, wide mouth. She found his lips irresistibly attractive, always drawing her eye. She kissed them now, soundly, before settling her head upon his chest.

“Do you think Charlie and Josephine were happy together?” she asked.

“If they were, I doubt it would have lasted. He didn’t love her. He thought she was beautiful, and wanted her, but Tony is right, he seems a vain and selfish man. I don’t believe he knows what it means to really love a woman.”

“I don’t think she loved him, either,” Phryne said. “She just didn’t strike me as a woman in love. And if you don’t know what that looks like,” she said, “there’s a good example laying here beside you.”

“Is that so?” he said, happily, pulling her to him and dipping his head to press his lips to her neck. “Lucky me.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short chapter started as investigation and banter and quickly turned into a bit of a smut fest. Forgive me! Or skip it, if not your cup of tea.

“I am finding the lack of access to official information very frustrating. No forensics, no witness statements. Other than our meager interviews, we have nothing,” Jack said, running his hands through his hair and glancing at the small pile of papers on which he’d jotted down his thoughts.

“Now you see why I find you so essential, my dear Inspector,” Phryne said.

“That’s all I really am to you, isn’t it? Simply a means to getting into interview rooms and the morgue,” he said pouting.

They were in the middle of the bed, their notes on the case scattered around them, a breakfast tray Phryne had ordered from the hotel kitchen, now nearly depleted, sat by Jack’s side.

She shrugged.

“I don’t even need you for the morgue anymore. With Mac as coroner, I can come and go as I please.” 

She reached across his lap to pluck the last strawberry off the tray. “But I’ve found new ways in which you make yourself useful,” she said, placing the berry in her mouth and closing her lips around it seductively.

He watched her, his eyes darkening as his lips curved into a slow smile.

“Don’t attempt to distract me, Miss Fisher,” he said.

“You should know better than to issue a challenge, Jack,” she said, angling her body to press against him and bringing her face close to his. She dragged her hand down his bare chest until he grabbed her wrist, stopping her at his waistband.

He could feel her warm breath on his cheek and smell the sweet scent of the strawberry. His mouth watered as he raised his head, bringing his lips slowly to hers. 

His tongue darted from his mouth to sweep her upper lip. She hummed appreciatively and pressed her open mouth to his, allowing their tongues to tangle, as their lips met and parted, over and over. His hand tangled into her hair, hers came to rest on his thigh. She could do this, just this, all day long.

He pulled back, breathless.

“This is why investigations take place in the police station. Far less temptation.”

“Are you saying you’ve never been tempted at the station, Inspector?” She raised a sultry eyebrow at him. 

He inclined his head briefly with a familiar smirk that made her heart stop momentarily.

“As I am immune to the considerable constabulary charms of Hugh Collins, the station was generally a safe place.”

“Was?”

”Yes, until a certain private detective began to regard my office as her own, sprawling herself all over my desk.”

“I do not ‘sprawl,’ Jack,” she indignantly replied. “I perch. In a very dignified manner.”

“Either way, it’s damn distracting.” 

“Really?” she was interested now. She sat up, crossing her legs in front of her and tucking her dressing gown between her thighs so it rode up over her knees. “When did you find me distracting? Or is it another private detective you speak of?”

“God forbid there be two of you! And this is exactly what I’m talking about,” he laughed. “Your propensity for leaving your knees exposed.”

“You find my knees tempting? Out of all my rather appreciable assets, it’s my knees that drive you to distraction?”

He reached for her, gripping her around the waist.

“Your knees, your eyes, your lips, your quick-silver mind.”

He shoved the papers to the side, pushed her back against the bed and pressed himself to her, grinding against her forcefully. 

“Your ears, your neck, your breasts” he growled, as he kissed each place in succession finally bringing his mouth down over one breast and sucking at her nipple through the silk of her gown, taking it between his teeth a little too firmly, just this side of painful.

The speed with which he’d gone from teasingly amused to highly aroused staggered and excited her. The mere thought that he’d desired her, all those months, while he’d sat, calmly discussing their cases, seemingly immune to her charms; it almost had her coming undone right then. 

He rose over her, untied her gown and spread it open so that she lay naked beneath him. She was panting in anticipation, watching his eyes move eagerly over her. He gripped her hip, his fingers digging into her flesh, while his other, large rough hand, fingers splayed, dragged slowly along her torso, brushed over her soft curls and down to her thigh, stopping when he reached her knee to tease the sensitive spot behind it.

She bent her knees, bringing them up around him and shifted her pelvis.

“See anything else you like?” she asked softly, letting her legs fall open. 

He looked down on her in awed admiration. She could see the pulse pounding in his neck.

“Yes, Phryne,” he snarled, locking his eyes on hers.

“Then take it.”

He pushed his pants roughly past his hips, and she had barely a moment to admire him, before her fell on her and buried himself deep inside. 

The breakfast tray crashed to the floor as he thrust into her. There were none of his usual, tender ministrations in evidence. This was pure animal lust. 

She had dreamed of this with him. His wanton desire unleashed. Imagined it often. And the reality was all she had hoped it would be, and more.

Jack wasn’t thinking of her pleasure. This was about him and his all consuming need to get inside her skin, to be one with her, and give himself wholly to her. He had a primitive, territorial urge to brand her, deep inside, and mark her as his, if only for this one moment in time. He was outside of himself, only vaguely aware of her cries of ecstasy as she rose up to meet him. 

She felt each glorious inch of him. He hadn’t taken time to completely remove his pajama pants and the rough scratch of the cotton against her thighs along with the silk of her dressing gown at her back, all added to the whirl of sensations surrounding her. She gripped his shoulders, rising up.

“Yes, Jack, Oh. God. Yes!” she screamed as she cracked and came apart beneath him.

An electric current pulsed through his body and fried his brain. A feral roar ripped from his throat as he came, crashing into her, and wrecking himself on her shore.

He fell on top of her, fighting to catch his breath, and murmuring nonsense into her ear. 

He realized that he was resting his entire weight on her and started to lift himself up. Her hands went around his waist, pulling him back down. She wasn’t ready to let him go.

She was pulsing softly, her body slow to come down from the incredible high. When he shifted and slowly withdrew, she moaned at the loss.

He fell onto his back at her side, still breathing heavily. Groping along the bed between them, he found her hand and grasped it, interlacing their fingers. Neither of them spoke for several moments.

“My knees,” she said finally. “Who knew?” 

“They’re really nice knees,” he said, causing her to smile.

“I don’t think the china survived,” he added, looking over the edge of the bed.

“No worries,” she said. “At least I’d left the teapot on the trolley. The mess shouldn’t be too bad.”

She began to sit up to check the damage. He grabbed her arm.

“It can wait,” he said, pulling her to him and kissing her fiercely. He caressed her cheek with his hand, gazing into her eyes. “You are beautiful, Phryne. And far too tempting. In future, we will have to agree to leave the investigating to places other than the bedroom.”

“That might be wise,” she agreed. “I do have my reputation as a detective to protect. And the bedroom is best used for other things.”

She sat up and fastened her robe firmly back around her. Jack got up and began picking up broken pieces of china from the floor. It wasn’t as bad as it might have been, one cup and a plate had survived.

“I wish there were a way we could get our hands on the autopsy report,” he said, I’m very curious about the murder weapon. If the murder took place in the bedroom, did the killer bring the weapon with them, or was it something already in the room and simply an opportunistic choice?”

These were the kind of thoughts that always swirled around his brain when working on a case. He loved that he had her to bounce them off of, and provide her insights. Often they came to the same conclusions, but there were times when she saw something he missed, or had an understanding of motivation that had escaped him. It was fascinating to see how her mind worked.

“I’m guessing opportunistic,” she said. “The way Gilson described the wounds made me think it was a spontaneous crime of passion or rage, rather than a well planned attack.”

“Anna seems a cool customer. Is she the type to rage?” Jack wondered.

The ringing of the phone disturbed their ruminating. Jack sprang to answer it, feeling apprehensive.

Twenty minutes later, they were dressed and heading to meet Baz in the lobby. They found him pacing, nervously.

“I didn’t know where to go,” he said approaching them.

“What has happened?” Jack asked.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne and Jack meet Baz in the lobby after his frantic call and the murderer is revealed.

“Anna came to me. She was frantic," Baz said. "The police were back at Charlie’s first thing this morning. She wants me to go to the authorities, to tell them that I, too, had seen Lucy fighting with Josephine. I told her I would go, but came here instead.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“She wasn’t making much sense.”

“What were the police looking for?”

“I don't know. When I asked, she just told me to do as she said, and not ask questions.”

“Do you know if the police were still at the house?”

“They’d come and gone.”

“Perhaps we should get over there, Jack,” Phryne said.

“Yes, but first we should phone the police. I have no authority here and who knows what we’ll find when we arrive.”

After calling to report a disturbance at Charlie’s address, they hailed a taxi and rushed over. They arrived at the same time as a lone police vehicle, come to respond to their call. 

The front door stood open and they could hear voices coming from the ballroom. Anna and Charlie faced each other in the large, otherwise empty room. Charlie stood, holding a small pistol to his temple. Anna’s voice echoed through the room, she sounded desperate.

“Don’t do this,” she said. “Everything can still be alright. We just need to stay to the story.”

Charlie looked to the doorway, seeing the newcomers arrive. His eyes went wide and darted around the room like a caged animal’s. 

He turned the gun on Anna.

“She killed her!” he cried, “The only woman I ever loved and she took her from me!”

“What are you doing?” Anna said in confusion. Following his gaze, she noticed the group in the doorway for the first time.

Phryne stepped forward, into the room. Charlie shifted the gun to point it at her

“Phryne!” Jack warned, moving to try to get in front of her.

“Don’t move” shouted Charlie. Pointing his gun from Phryne to Jack and back to Phryne.

The young policeman stood frozen in the doorway, while Baz cowered, trying to make himself very small.

“I don’t know why you’re here, or what you want, but you don’t want to come closer Mr. Robinson,” Charlie said coldly. 

Jack’s heart pounded in his chest. He never took his eyes from the desperate man pointing a gun at the woman he loved. It wasn’t much of a gun, but still, any threat to Phryne made his blood boil.

“You can’t kill us all, Mr. Lacey,” said Jack calmly.

“And why not?” he asked.

“That’s a Remington Double Deringer, if I’m not mistaken,” said Phryne, “Very popular with ladies. Fits rather nicely in a handbag.”

As Phryne spoke, Jack moved slowly closer to Charlie.

“I didn’t ask for a critique of my weapon. As long as it fires bullets, I don’t care,” Charlie said testily.

“The point is, it holds just two rounds,” Phryne continued. “Only enough to kill one of us, if you intend to save a bullet for yourself, as I assume you do.”

“That was my intent,” he said. “But I’m adaptable. Perhaps I want to live after all.”

“Then your best course of action would be to put down the gun, and help us discover the truth of what happened to Josephine,” Phryne said.

“No one is interested in the truth,” he said.

“I am,” she said. “Tell me what happened.”

She was determined to keep him talking, to keep him focused on her as Jack edged closer. The deringer didn’t have a great range, but if Charlie felt threatened, he could turn the gun on Jack and it would do its intended job. Luckily the man liked the sound of his own voice.

“Anna killed Jo in a jealous rage,” Charlie said. “She’s been in love with me all this time and couldn’t bear to see me happy with someone else. She put the blame on Lucy to protect herself. Now that her story is unraveling, she’s trying to lay the blame on me.”

“No!” Anna cried. “It was Lucy, she was consumed by jealousy. Tell them Baz,” she said turning to look at him, “Tell them what you saw,” she went on desperately, “how angry she was, shouting at Jo, in the bedroom.”

“Stop Anna,” Charlie said. “It’s too late. I can’t help you now. You’ll hang for this.”

She swayed on her feet, grabbing hold of the back of a chair to keep upright. She leaned toward Charlie.

“You don’t mean that,” Anna said, soothingly. “You need me. No one cares for you like I do. I know you’re scared, but it’s going to be ok. It was Lucy, everyone knows that.”

“She’s crazy,” He cried. “Can’t you see? What are you waiting for? Arrest her. I want her out of my sight!”

Anna looked at him in utter disbelief. Then she straightened, her face turning to stone as she stood tall and proud.

“After all I’ve done for you?” She cried. She stared him down, then said in a deadly cold, clear voice, “he killed her and I can prove it.”

“You bitch,” he said, turning the gun on her. 

A shot rang out, just as Jack sprang forward, tackling Charlie with a force that took him to the ground. The gun clattered to the floor.

Phryne had a moment of panic, until she saw Jack get to his feet, wrenching Charlie’s hands behind his back and pulling him up to his feet. She rushed forward to retrieve the pistol and trained it on Anna.

“She’s lying,” Charlie said, making a feeble attempt to break Jack’s hold on him. “Just like she lied about Lucy. Why would I kill Josephine? I loved her!”

“The police have the rug from Josephine’s room,” Anna said, “They came looking for it this morning. I assume we can thank you two for that?” she said, glancing from Phryne to Jack and shaking her head. “I had it all handled.

I heard her screaming,” she continued, “When I got to the bedroom, she was on the floor and he was stabbing her, over and over. I tried to pull him off, but he was a madman. When he finally stopped it was too late. I told him to take her outside. The rug was covered with blood. I rolled it up, and later, he helped me remove it and hide it in the boathouse, until we could dispose of it.”

“That is a lie,” Charlie said. “She must have killed Jo in the room and then moved her to the hall, where I found her. I knew nothing about the rug.”

“You think you can talk your way out of this? You’re not that bright,” Anna scoffed. “I’ve watched while you took up with one floozy after the other. That simpering Lucy, and that whore Josephine. But I knew if I could just wait, make myself indispensable, you’d see that you need me. And then you go and ruin everything. Josephine was right. You are weak and stupid.”

She sat calmly down on the chair, crossing her legs. 

“I won’t hang for him,” she said, “In my room, in the bedside table drawer, you’ll find a letter opener wrapped in my handkerchief. It will have his fingerprints all over it, and Josephine’s blood.” 

She smiled bitterly as Charlie’s mouth fell open in shock.

“You thought I got rid of it didn’t you?” she laughed. “That’s what I told you, and why would you doubt me, your loyal assistant. I may be a fool, but I’m not an idiot. As long as I had it, I knew you could never leave me.”

Charlie roared and fought to break free of Jack’s grip, trying to get at Anna. The policeman finally came forward to help, and locked handcuffs around Charlie’s wrists.

A whimpering cry came from the doorway. Phryne turned to see Baz, sitting on the floor, clutching his arm. He looked up at her, his face white with shock.

“I’ve been shot,” he said, before fainting dead away.

Phryne went to him and checked his wound. She looked over at Jack. 

“Barely grazed him,” she said. “He’ll live.”

Anna led the way to her room, and turned over the bloody letter opener, then sat quietly, waiting for more police to arrive. Phryne revived Baz and wrapped his wound with a piece of cloth torn from his shirt. The three of them gave their statements and were present to hear Charlie’s confession.

He had argued with Josephine. Telling her the flirting and dancing, and attentions to other men wouldn’t be allowed. 

She’d laughed at him, told him she’d no intention of changing her behavior for any man, let alone such a ridiculous one. She’d said he wasn’t even that great a lover and that she had far wealthier men vying for her attention. She had gone to collect her things. She was leaving. 

He followed her in a blind rage. He claimed to remember nothing after that, until Anna was pulling him to his feet, shouting at him to leave.

“But you see how she drove me to it?” he said, “Was I to let her speak to me that way? To make a fool of me? Who was she anyway? She was just another worthless woman. I was ready to give her the moon and she threw it back in my face.”

He wouldn’t stop talking. Phryne and Jack were astonished by his sheer stupidity.

“What about Lucy?” Phryne asked, “Why blame her?”

He said that had been Anna’s idea. She’d witnessed the argument with Phryne, and saw an opportunity to lay the blame. 

By mid-afternoon, Lucy was released to a relieved and grateful Rosemary, who invited Jack and Phryne to their home for a Christmas Eve celebration. Lucy begged them to accept, saying she wanted to thank them and also needed the distraction.

In the end it was a small, but cheerful group that included Baz and Tony as well. Tony fussed around Lucy, making sure she was comfortable and eating. He stayed at her elbow all evening. 

Baz recounted the events of the day, saying that he’d been running to rush Charlie when he’d been shot, and letting Rosemary cluck over his ‘bullet’ wound.

“Perhaps he’ll be a writer someday after all,” remarked Jack quietly to Phryne.

"Why did Anna blame Lucy?" Rosemary asked.

"She was protecting her investment," said Phryne. "She'd spent too much time inserting herself into Charlie's life to see it all fall apart."

"And Charlie was all too willing to go along with her deception," Jack said. "Until the police came to ask more questions. Then he panicked, thinking he had no way out, until he decided to try to shift the blame to Anna."

"And to think I welcomed them into my home!" Rosemary said sadly.

At one point, Lucy took Phryne aside.

“I owe you my life, and a rather large apology,” she said.

“You have already apologized,” said Phryne graciously.

“No, not sufficiently. I misjudged you terribly. I thought you were like them.”

“Like who?”

“Charlie and Josephine, and people like them. Selfish people, that think only of themselves, and don’t care who they hurt. He’s a good man,” she said, looking at Jack across the room. “He’s caring and intelligent and he clearly adores you. I thought you’d make a fool of him, like Charlie did me.”

“It’s not always easy to understand a relationship from the outside. Charlie and Josephine appeared happy. Jack knows who I am, and I’m well aware of the man he is,” Phryne said fondly. 

Lucy nodded.

“It wasn’t really about you that night. The more I saw of Charlie the more angry I was that I’d wasted one minute of my time on him! I was so disgusted with myself. I was ready to lash out at anyone. You just happened to be a handy target. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive, but promise me you will choose your next lover more wisely.”

“I don’t think there will be a ‘next lover’ for me. Not for a long time,” Lucy replied.

“I wouldn’t be so hasty. There is one young man who has potential. He also happens to be crazy about you, and handsome too. Not bad qualities in a man,” she said, glancing Tony’s direction.

Lucy turned to look at Tony, who appeared surprised to find himself suddenly under the gaze of two such beautiful women. He blushed and turned away.

“Modest too, it seems,” said Phryne. “Even better.”

Phryne and Jack did not want to overstay their welcome, and were anxious to be alone after another long day, so they made an early night of it. After accepting yet another barrage of gratitude from Rosemary and Lucy, and a lot of hugs, Lucy saw them out.

“What will happen to Anna and Charlie?” she asked.

“Charlie should hang, but he has money and connections, and may be able to find his way out of this yet. Anna won’t be that lucky and will spend a long time in prison for her help in covering up his crime,” Jack replied.

“I shudder to think what would have become of me without your help. I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done,” she said. “I owe you my life.”

“You owe us nothing,” Jack said. 

After promises to keep in touch, that most likely would not be kept, they made their way out into the night.

Jack wrapped his arm around Phryne’s waist and she leaned into him as they strolled slowly back in the direction of their hotel. It was a beautiful, warm night and they decided to walk for awhile. 

“Our stay here did not turn out quite as I had hoped. It was meant to be relaxing,” Phryne said.

“But, we saved a life and brought a murderer to justice. What could be more satisfying than that, Miss Fisher?”

She looked at him deviously.

“I can think of a few things, Inspector.”

“You are incorrigible, woman.” He scolded.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what you are doing when you set me up with lines like that Jack, I know what goes on in your head.”

He spun her to him and grabbed her tightly around the waist, looking down on her with a heat in his eyes that made her swoon.

“What am I thinking right now, Phryne? Can you tell?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making Baz, the only American character in this story, such a pathetic fellow. I've noticed that Americans are often shown in a less than flattering light in stories from other countries, and being American myself, I hate to promote stereotypes. I didn't originally intend Baz that way. He just seemed to evolve on his own!
> 
> I wanted to thank everyone for sticking with my story and for the comments and kudos. I hope the mystery was at least entertaining.
> 
> I don't think I can end this story until I get my heroes back home, so I'll have to continue for a little while yet.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Phryne and Jack continue their trip, Jack has worries about how their relationship will continue once they are home.

A loud bang echoed through the room.

“Awww,” complained Phryne, “You win again. What did you get this time?”

“A plastic whistle,” Jack replied, “Which I will gladly share.”

He tossed the small toy onto the growing pile in front of them, before reaching for a candy and unwrapping it carefully.

Phryne watched him. They were sitting on the floor of the suite. Jack wore casual moleskin trousers, his shirt open at the collar. He was leaning against a chair, one leg bent at the knee, the ankle tucked up under the thigh of his other leg, which was stretched out before him. His feet were bare.

Something about his feet enthralled her. They were long and thin, like him. A little bony, with the tendons standing out prominently and the toes almost always flexed, as though he were ready to spring up, suddenly. She’d never admit it, especially after teasing him about his fascination with her knees, but she found them arousing.

They were eating sweets and opening the Christmas crackers they’d found at a shop nearby. She’d placed a paper crown on his head earlier, and to her surprise, he’d yet to remove it. His hair had grown longer, and he’d skipped the usual pomade this morning, making the waves more evident. When he was like this, relaxed, and out of the uniform he usually clad himself in, he looked several years younger.

She was still astonished by how it felt to just look at him. It sparked something in her that she’d felt only rarely. A euphoria similar the times she’d taken cocaine. It was a remarkably similar high, but this one was even better, as it didn’t come with the depressed letdown that had accompanied her few experimentations with the drug. And while he did have the affect of making her mind a bit fuzzy, it wasn’t in an unpleasant way. This was highly enjoyable.

“Phryne?” he said.

She blinked. He was smiling at her curiously. She felt a blush creep up her neck and dropped her head, reaching for one of the wrapped candies in the bowl by his knee.

“What were you thinking?” he asked.

“When?” She said innocently.

“Just now. You had a distant look on your face.”

It had also been a very happy look, one that had warmed him to the core, but he didn’t say that.

“I was just thinking that this is a nice Christmas.”

“You’re not sorry to be away from home?”

“No,” she said, honestly. “I do miss Mr. Butler’s dinner, his chestnut stuffing is amazing, and Dot makes an excellent Christmas pudding, but I’m happy here with you.”

He was glad to hear that, as he was more than content to be here with her.

“Maybe it’s not a bad thing for you to be away this year,” he said. “It will give Dot and Hugh a chance to have their first Christmas on their own. A first Christmas is an important one in a marriage. This way they’ll have a chance to start their own traditions.”

As he spoke, he’d picked up a small, plastic model of an automobile and was casually spinning its wheels. He didn’t notice the surprised look that crossed Phryne’s face.

It wasn’t that she’d forgotten that Dot was now married, she just hadn’t given much thought to the practicalities of that fact. Of course, having been married himself, Jack would have a better understanding of these things. She found herself wondering about his holidays with Rosie.

“I just realized that I have no idea what you’d be doing today if you were at home. What do you do at Christmas, Jack? And please tell me you don’t spend it at the station.”

He smiled, a bit chagrined.

“You do!” she cried. “Oh Jack, why?”

“It’s not that sad,” he said. “No need to feel sorry for me. I’m not a religious man, nor do I have my own family. I’ll sometimes go to Geelong for Christmas Eve, and return early in the morning, so that the men with families can be at home with them.”

“Your sister is in Geelong?” she asked, remembering him having said something about his brother-in-law managing a fertilizer plant there.

“Yes, and Mum is there too. She moved there to be near her grandkids.”

Jack’s father had died years earlier. Living long enough to see his son return from war, but not much longer. She knew Jack missed him, and she was sorry he hadn’t lived long enough to see the extent of his son’s success at his job. She was sure he’d have been proud of Jack’s accomplishments and the high regard he was held in, by superiors and subordinates alike.

It seemed unfair that Jack, who had adored his father, should lose him, while her own father remained, and in fact seemed to be settled in for a very long haul.

Jack didn’t talk often of his family, but occasionally mentioned his nieces, of whom he was rather proud. One of them had inherited her uncle’s love of cycling, and Jack had sent her a new pushbike for her latest birthday.

“And, when you were with Rosie?” she ventured, “What was Christmas like then?”

He inclined his head, raising an eyebrow with a small smile on his lips.

“That was a little more complicated, as she wanted to spend it with her family, and at first I wanted to go to mine,” he said.

“At first?”

“Well, Mum explained, that after marriage, a husband was to leave his mother, and join with his wife,” he said, smiling sheepishly.

“Were you your mother’s favorite Jack Robinson? A bit spoilt, perhaps?” she teased.

“I don’t know about favorite, but spoilt, yes,” he conceded. “That doesn’t mean I got away with a lot,” he added hastily. “Mum is no push over.”

The pride and affection with which he spoke of his mother was endearing. She very much hoped to someday meet the woman that had raised this remarkable man.

“What about you?” he asked. “What was Christmas like in the Fisher household.”

“There wasn’t much of a household,” she scoffed. “And even less of a Christmas. If we were lucky we got to go to Aunt P’s. But the years when she and mother were at odds were the worst, especially after Janey.”

She stopped speaking and pulled the paper crown from her head.

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I should have known it would bring up painful memories.”

“It’s alright,” she said, squeezing his hand. “It’s only that I’ve just remembered, this will be Aunt P’s first Christmas without Arthur.”

“Will Guy and Isobel be with her?”

“Oh, who knows with those two. I certainly hope so,” she said. “I just had an interesting thought.”

“What’s that?”

Well, Dot will be with Hugh, Cec with Alice, and Guy is spectacularly unreliable. So I’m picturing a lovely Christmas dinner, organized by Mr. Butler, with himself, Aunt P. and Bert! Maybe even Mac,” She burst out laughing. “What do you think?”

“I think it sounds just like the kind of thing Mr. Butler would do.”

“What do you say to a walk, Jack? I’d like to send a telegram or two.”

“An excellent idea,” he said, standing and helping her to her feet. “I should send word to the commissioner too. I told him I’d be in touch toward the end of my holiday.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” she said, “I hate to think about that. When must you be back?”

“I had six weeks. I’m expected back shortly after the start of the new year.”

“That’s less than two weeks from now!”

“Yes,” he said. He’d been counting the days for awhile. “But, all good things must end.”

She slipped her arms around his waist and looked up into his eyes. When she was in bare feet, the top of her head barely reached to his chin.

“What exactly is ending?” she asked “And, by the way, I am not Cressida to your Trolius.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her.

“You give me too much credit, Phryne. Not all things I say have secret meaning couched in literary reference. And you are Cressida, only in that Trolius loved her madly,” he said. “I simply meant that holidays don’t last forever and I will miss traveling with you.”

“Then we will have to plan another holiday together soon. As it is said, ‘All work and no play, makes Jack a dull boy.’ No hidden meaning in that one!”

 

* * *

 

 

When they awoke the next morning they found that a telegram had been slipped under their door during the night. Jack retrieved it, read it over and groaned.

“Well, this throws a wrench in things.”

Jack explained that the telegram was from the Commissioner. There was a prisoner requiring transfer to the Victoria city gaol.

“He’s asking me if I can get to Adelaide by the sixth of January, and oversee the transfer.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem, Adelaide is not that far out of our way,” she said.

“But I can’t very well take a prisoner along on the aircraft,” he said. “you’d have to fly home alone.”

“I have flown by myself before, and no offense, Jack, but all you add is extra weight. And outstanding company, of course,” she included, hastily.

It wasn’t that he thought her incapable of flying solo, it was the sharp reminder that real life was intruding.

“Will the timing work for your schedule?” He asked.

“I have no schedule,” she said, “My life is my own.”

Things would be different when they got back home, and Jack had been trying not to think about it. Every time it had come to mind, he’d brushed it off, telling himself they’d figure it out, and he’d worry about it later.

Later was fast approaching, and she’d just said the one thing he knew for sure to be true, her life was her own. He still didn’t know exactly how he fit into it, in the real world.

“We’ll have to alter our course, but we will get you to Adelaide on time,” she said, “We should be on our way. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

Jack pushed thoughts of the future to the back of his mind once again, and got on with packing. They were leaving Singapore today. When they were in the air, the thoughts crept back in.

He’d slept by her side for nearly two weeks now, what would it be like to wake up alone in his quiet house? He knew she’d be expecting him to stay with her some nights and he knew he would want to, but would he truly be comfortable with that?

Things had been so good, he’d let himself forget. They weren’t heading home to a conventional relationship. He wasn’t courting her with an eye toward marriage. Or, was he?

If he were completely honest with himself, what would he say he wanted with Phryne?

He was committed to her. The thought of losing her chilled him to the bone. Commitment had always meant marriage. A man left his home, his family, and joined with his wife, just like his mother had said. What kind of a man embarked on an indefinite, sexual relationship with a woman who was not his wife?

He’d held his head high despite gossip among his fellow police officers, because he’d known it wasn’t true. How would he look his men in the eye when they learned they’d been right. That he was, indeed, the lover and plaything of a wealthy woman. A woman that had him wrapped around her finger.

That’s what they said, in much cruder terms than that, and though he knew that’s not how it was, it would appear that way to many. He was a proud man. He’d worked hard to earn his position of respect. Would he come to resent her if he lost it?

He had this sad image of himself, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of his honor, but wanting her so desperately, that he would abandon all his notions of propriety to be with her.

She would continue to live her life as she saw fit. He knew she’d take his needs into consideration and would never be cruel, but while he already felt as though he belonged to her, she would never truly belong to him. She would never belong to anyone. He’d be chasing her forever, always fearing the day she got away. Who would he be then, after giving up so much of himself to be with her?

It made his head spin. Did being together have to mean one of them gave up being themselves? Wasn’t there a place for compromise? Maybe together, they made a whole that was even better than they were apart? He knew she made him a better person, wasn’t it possible he did the same for her?

If he did, and she loved and wanted him, why couldn’t she marry him? Was it such an outrageous thing to want? Maybe he should just ask her - not to marry him - but to explain her aversion to it, because, he wasn’t sure he understood.

The mere thought of that conversation made him feel a little sick to his stomach. He leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the hum of the engine fill his head and empty his mind for awhile.

“Are you no longer enjoying flying?” she asked, when they stopped the first time to refuel.

“Why do you say that?”

“You don’t seem to be. You hardly noticed the scenery at all, and at one point you looked a bit green around the gills.”

“Perhaps I just need time to readjust to it,” he said. Now was not the time to start a serious conversation with her, they still had several hours in the air ahead of them.

His thoughts didn’t became any more settled, but he tried to take in his surroundings and enjoy the experience. When they finally landed and found an inn for the night, he steeled himself to bring up what had been on his mind. They’d talk over dinner, he decided.

At dinner, he couldn’t find a way to begin, but couldn’t think of anything else either, and the conversation became stilted and awkward. She noticed his distraction.

“You’ve hardly touched your food, Jack. Is everything alright? Are you feeling well?”

“I feel fine, just not that hungry,” he said, flashing her a rather insincere looking smile.

Since when wasn’t he hungry? she thought, but didn’t push. When they got back to the room, he sat down, pulled out his book and began reading. She went to the bath to rinse out some things and wash the day off. When she returned, he appeared engrossed in his book, so she sat down to write a letter to Mac. She tried not to be concerned, but she could almost see the black cloud hanging over his head.

Jack stared at page after page, not taking any of it in, after nearly an hour, he got up, telling Phryne he was tired. He went off to the bath, and immediately climbed into bed upon his return. A short time later, he felt her slip in beside him. He turned to her and let her settle her back against him, wrapping his arm around her waist. In a few minutes, he was asleep.

“Jack!” she said, shaking him gently, “Wake up!”

He started awake, the room was pitch black, he reached desperately for her. “Phryne?” he croaked.

“I’m right here, Jack,” she said. “Everything is fine. You were dreaming.”

He fell back against the bed. His heart was pounding in his chest. An overwhelming sense of fear and dread clung to him. He hadn’t had that dream in months. Not since he’d received her letter. And this wasn’t exactly the same dream anyway. She wasn’t gone, not forever, but she was lost and he couldn’t find her. The dream had been hazy and indistinct, but had evoked the same horrible grief as that other dream.

“What was it, Jack?” she asked, caressing him soothingly.

“Nothing, just a bad dream,” he replied.

“That was obvious,” she said, “What was it about?”

“I don’t know,” he said. It wasn’t really a lie. The whole thing was rather fuzzy.

“You were calling my name,” she said quietly.

“Was I?”

“Yes.”

“Probably just reliving one of the many times you’ve put yourself in harm’s way and frightened me to death,” he said.

“I don’t think so.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t remember it. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I don’t care about that,” she said. “I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine, love,” he said. “Go back to sleep. But stay close, if you don’t mind. That way I’ll know where you are, and won’t have anymore bad dreams,” he said, pulling her to him.

“I don’t mind at all,” she said, settling against him again, with a nagging doubt in the back her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reference to Phryne feeling a high like cocaine, came from a study I read about that showed that people in love show increased brain activity in the same area sparked in people who have just gotten high. Not just any high, but the kind that Class A drugs illicit. I found that interesting and wanted to use it, seeing as I assume Phryne is familiar with that kind of high.
> 
> The Trolius and Cressida reference was serendipitous. I wanted to have Jack say "all good things must come to and end" and did a bit of research on the origin of the phrase. I found it was attributed to Geoffrey Chaucer in his poem Trolius and Criseyed, which Shakespeare used as a basis for his play, Trolius and Cressida. One I confess I was not familiar with. 
> 
> A brief summary: Trolius and Cressida loved each other and pledged themselves to one another, but she was exchanged in a prisoner swap by her father, and ended up agreeing to pledge herself to another man, leaving Trolius heartbroken.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack opens up to Phryne about what he needs, and they discuss their differing views on sex and fidelity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty talky chapter, but I felt they needed to cover this ground if they hoped to succeed in continuing their relationship.
> 
> I know it's probably far more complicated than I've made it here, but I have to move my story along.

They travelled a shorter distance the next day, and at dinner in their hotel that night, Jack ate better, but still seemed preoccupied and not quite himself.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asked.

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like I have two heads. What is going on with you. You’ve seemed unwell, been having nightmares, and now you’re looking at me like you’re not sure who I am.”

“One nightmare,” he corrected.

“Just tell the commissioner you can’t do it. I’m sure he can find someone else,” she said. He’d been in a funk ever since he’d received that telegram.

“What?” he said, “No, that’s not it,” he said.

She looked at him expectantly. He said nothing.

“For God’s sake, Jack, what is it? You know I am not a patient woman! Nor am I a mind reader.”

“Really?” he said smiling, “I’ll cross that one off the list I’ve been keeping of your many extraordinary talents.” 

She didn’t look amused. He let out a resigned sigh, and steeled himself to begin.

“Have you really never considered marriage?” He asked in as straight forward a manner as he could muster.

“What?” she coughed, choking on the sip of wine she’d just taken.

“Is getting married something you really have never imagined you could do?” He asked again.

“Married,” she echoed. “To you?”

“I wish you wouldn’t say it like that,” he said. Her tone had bordered on incredulous. “I’m not talking specifics right now, I’m asking more about the institution in general,” he said.

“You said you thought you could be happy without being married.”

“I did, and I still think that I might. I’m not asking you to marry me, I’m asking for your thoughts on the subject.”

She was feeling a slight panic rise in her. The meal she’d just finished suddenly sitting heavily in her stomach.

“Perhaps we could take what remains of the wine and continue this conversation upstairs,” she said.

He simply nodded. As they settled their bill and made their way up to their room, Jack thought about how to continue this conversation he’d begun. He’d taken note of her shocked expression and the pinched tone to her voice. He didn’t want to panic her. 

He decided a dispassionate approach, such as he would take in an interrogation, would suit him best. Not that his intent was to interrogate her, but he needed to keep as detached an air as he could, and slipping into Detective Inspector mode was the best way he knew how.

She poured them both a glass of wine and sat down at his side on the couch. She thought side by side would be better for this conversation, as she wasn’t sure she’d be able to look him in the eye.

“What has brought this on?” she asked.

“I feel like you’re avoiding answering my question,” he said. 

“But, there must be a reason you’re suddenly asking, and I want to know what it is,” she said.

“I’m sure you do,” he replied, “But I asked you first.”

“We’re not children, Jack!” 

“No, we are not children. We are grown adults and I am trying to have an adult conversation with you about why you’ve never considered marriage. Is this such a difficult question for you to answer? I’d have thought your reasons would be clear to you.”

“I suppose they are,” she said, dubiously.

“Can you make them clear to me?” he asked.

She looked at him with the fearful expression of a child who’d been asked to recite, before the class, a poem she’d neglected to learn. It was a little pitiful.

“Phryne this is not a trap. I am not planning on springing a proposal on you. I want to understand your views on marriage, but if it will help, I’ll go first and tell you mine,” he said. “I’ve always thought that when you loved someone and wanted to spend your life with them, you got married. It is a promise to try your best to always be there. It was how you told one another, and the world, what you mean to each other. Put simply, that’s what it means to me. What does it mean to you?”

“Your version sounds nice, but that hasn’t been my experience. Marriage, to me, always looked like it benefited one person more than the other. It is a way for a man to claim ownership of a woman. She takes his name and her wants and needs become secondary to his. I’ve never sought permission to do as I like, and I will continue living that way. It seems incompatible with marriage. It is not in me to commit myself to anyone in that manner.”

“I don’t see commitment as ownership. I see it as a bond that goes both ways. When you say it’s not in you to commit to anyone, does that include me?” he asked. “If you already know that we are not, nor ever could be, committed to each other, then, what are we doing? I don’t want this to be a brief affair, I’ve already said that.”

“I don’t see this as a brief affair,” she said, “I want to be with you for the foreseeable future. Isn’t that enough?”

This wasn’t helping at all. Nothing being said allowed him to see an acceptable way to proceed with their relationship once they were back home.

He’d gone so quiet. She turned her head, slightly, trying to read his expression.

“Is it? Enough, Jack?” she asked, “Please tell me what this is all about. What is bothering you?”

“We’ll be home soon,” he said.

“Yes.”

“I know I said we’d figure things out as we went, but I’m having a hard time picturing it. What are we to each other?”

“Well, we’re partners, I like to think we are good friends, and we are lovers, Jack.”

“Lovers,” he said. “I’m not sure I like that word. It sounds insignificant to me, and I don’t know what it means. What do lovers do, Phryne? Besides the obvious.”

“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“Do lovers step out with each other? Can I hold your hand in public? Who am I to your friends? You said we are beyond courting, and you’re probably right. So how does this go? Because here is what I’m envisioning -- I come to your home for the evening, like I have many times before, only now, I don’t leave. I go up to your bed. Then, in the morning, I slip out quietly, pretending the all knowing Mr. Butler is fooled, and sneak back to my own house to get ready for work. Is that what lovers do?”

“You make it sound so ugly and cheap,” she said.

“I don’t mean to make it sound ugly. It’s not ugly. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I want it to continue. I want to walk out with you on my arm, take you to dinner or a show. I want to hold your hand and maybe even kiss you, out from behind a closed door. I want you to be proud to be seen with me. And as silly as this sounds coming from a man of my age, I want to be your beau.” 

“But, that sounds lovely,” she said.

“Does it?” he asked. “I thought you’d find it suffocating.”

“Why would you think that? It’s what we’ve been doing for the past several weeks.”

“But we’re away from home, where no one knows us.”

“And you thought once we got home, I’d want to pretend this never happened? For it to be our little secret?”

“Everyone who knows you, understands that you don’t do this. You don't have relationships, Phryne.”

“Nobody knows me, Jack. Clearly not even you! And the only thing I don’t do, is live up to people’s idea of me. In fact, what I do best is shatter expectations. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“So you’ll be alright with people knowing we’re together? Because there will be talk.” 

“I have no intention of hiding or denying our relationship, and people can think whatever they want. Does that help?”

“It does,” he said. “But what about commitment? I’m not saying we have to get married, but I have to be honest. I don’t want anyone else, and I don’t like the idea of you with anyone else either. Can you commit to me enough to promise that while we are together, there will be no others?”

“Before I answer that, can you tell me why it’s so important to you? What we have is different than my other liaisons, but I enjoy sex, and as it is my body, I like to do with it as I please. If I were to engage in a mutually agreed upon sexual encounter with another man, that was nothing more than that, how does it affect you? Is it because of how it would look to others?” 

“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t part of it. And you know how it would look to others, I’d be considered a fool. But that’s not the whole of it,” he said. “When we are together, it’s not solely about the sensual pleasures. At least not for me. When I make love to you, Phryne, I feel a connection to you that goes beyond pleasure. It is my way of expressing to you how much I love you, because words alone cannot convey it. It is where we are joined as one. It belongs to no one but us. If I know you have shared that with another man, he will be in bed with us. He will come between us.”

His words had moved her and she knew that he was right in a way. What they shared together was more than just sensual pleasure. It was a level of intimacy she’d never felt before. 

“And you would feel this way even if you know my experience with the other is not the same? That sometimes a dance is just a dance. That it is strictly physical pleasure, and nothing more.”

“I cannot separate the two. If you find that another man is what you need, I’d ask that you at least try to wait, and tell me first. It will be less painful for me than finding out after the fact.”

“And if I do, it will be the end of us?”

“I think so, yes,” he said. “Not as a punishment. But, it would mean that I am not what you need, and there would be no point in continuing. You should be free to pursue what fulfills you.”

She’d known this about him all along, and still she’d chosen to be with him. Perhaps she’d already made her decision.

“Would it be that easy for you to end things?”

“No, it would kill me.”

“Would we still be able to work together?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to think so. Love affairs end, and people remain friends, and I cherish you as a friend and partner. I hope I’d be able to accept it and move on.”

“You’re putting me in a tough spot, Jack. I feel as though I need sign my life away to be with you.”

“Is that how it feels?” he asked. “Because being with you makes me feel like my life is just beginning.”

“Not fair, Jack,” she said, smiling, as her eyes filled with tears. 

“You don’t need to answer right now,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

“No, I think you deserve an answer, and I can’t pretend your views come as a surprise to me. You’d already told me this before, in your own way. But, you’re not saying our relationship must have marriage as its ultimate goal, are you?”

“I’m not saying that, but the thought of coming home to you every night is very attractive to me.”

“You could do that without marriage,” she said dismissively.

“No, Phryne,” he said. “I can’t.”

“Are you saying you won’t spend the night with me once we are home?”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me from you anymore. It just won’t be every night. I have a home of my own and a job at which I keep odd hours. That is one of the nicer practicalities of marriage. You get to reside at the same residence,” he said, adding, “at least in a functioning marriage.”

“So if I agree to your requirements, you’re saying we can continue as we have, and some nights you’ll stay with me, and some nights I’ll come to you. We will acknowledge our relationship and there will be no sneaking around. Is that about it?”

“I have no requirements,” he said. “I want you to choose this for yourself. I want you to choose me above all others, as I do you. I know it may not be forever. Even good things can fall apart, despite our best intentions. Can you do that? Can you choose me, of your own free will?”

“I already have,” she said. “As for other men, your feelings on the matter are important enough to me, that I will respect them. Besides, it really hasn’t been an issue as of late. No one else has caught my eye in a long time now. If I find that changing, you will be the first to know. I love you, Jack.”

“I love you, too,” he said, putting his arm around her and kissing her gently. “And if I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, that’d be ok with you?”

“Now that is something I can’t picture,” she laughed.

“Maybe I won’t shout, but I think my feelings for you have already been rather obvious, and I don’t intend to hide them.”

“Neither do I. I don’t think we need make a formal announcement or anything, but I don’t care who finds out,” she said, “In fact, I wrote to Mac last night.”

“You’ve told her you’re with me?”

“She’s my oldest friend. If I didn’t tell her, she’d find out anyway, and then punish me forever for not hearing of it earlier. Do you not want people to know we’ve been on holiday together? She won’t tell anyone. Mac is very discreet.”

“Tell her if you want, but I’d rather no one else knew about this trip. I don’t care to hear their views on the subject.”

“Agreed,” she said, thinking of her Aunt Prudence, in particular. “Now, my dear Detective Inspector, if everything has been settled to your satisfaction, I’d like you to take me to bed and make love to me.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne and Jack head toward home and get the chance to enjoy some time completely alone together, away from any distractions or possible homicides.

The next day was a difficult one for Jack. He had gotten used to flying, even enjoying it, but flying over water made him nervous. Something about not being able to see the ground beneath them was discomposing. They were hopping across a series of islands, each one taking them closer to Darwin. They finally stopped for the night on one of the large islands of the Dutch East Indies.

Phryne had been sore after the flight and Jack found the jar of Tiger Balm they’d brought along from Singapore, and gave her muscles a thorough rubdown to help her sleep. She’d drifted off while he worked.

It was blazingly hot, nearly 90 degrees. Much as he enjoyed sharing a bed with Phryne, two bodies, close together, would only make the heat more oppressive. They would be flying almost entirely over water the next day. He wanted Phryne to get a good night’s rest.

For the first time, when he climbed into bed beside her, he remained as far away as possible, which wasn’t easy, since she’d decided the temperature required sleeping in the nude.

They got an early start the next morning and covered over 400 miles over the sea, landing in Darwin in the early afternoon. It was the thirtieth day of December. One day before the end of 1929. Arguably the most interesting and exciting year of Jack’s life. He’d have to include the war year’s among the interesting, but this year had been far more enjoyable.

He’d started it, once again, a single man. His divorce, though difficult, had been something of a relief, since he’d already been in love with a woman who was not his wife. Now, unbelievably, that woman was with him, and he was anticipating what the new year would bring, with her at his side.

As they entered the hangar to make arrangements to have the plane serviced and stored until they were ready to push on, the man behind the counter called out to them.

“You Jack Robinson?” he asked.

“I am,” Jack replied.

“Frankie Wilson’s friend?”

“Yes.”

“Joe Hanks,” the man said, extending his hand. “Frankie asked me to keep an eye out, he left something here for you.” He reached under the counter and pulled out a bulky, letter sized envelope.

As Jack tore it open, Phryne came to look over his shoulder.

“Jack?” she said, curiously.

“I sent my friend Frank word that I’d be stopping through,” he said.

“Yes, I remember. What does he say? Will you be able to see him while we’re here?”

“No,” he said, sadly. “He won’t be back until late next month. I knew it was a long shot to hope to find him here, his work with the railroad takes him away from home often. I’m surprised he even got my telegram.”

He turned the envelope over and a set of keys fell into his hand.

“He’s offered me the use of his cabin while I’m here, if I want it. Typical Frank. I’ve mentioned that I’d like to see it. He always makes it sound so wonderful.”

“That’s generous,” said Phryne. “Where is this cabin?”

“It’s a couple of hours from here, but it’s not likely to be anything fancy, Phryne. Probably not up to your usual standards. From what I know it’s pretty secluded. After the war, Frank needed the solitude.”

“We have several days before you have to be in Adelaide. There’s no reason we can’t spend a few there. It sounds just the ticket.”

“I don’t even know if it’s a suitable place to bring you. He didn’t know who I was traveling with.”

Joe, who had been observing their exchange from behind the counter, spoke up.

“Don’t worry about your Mrs,” he said to Jack. “Frank’s Suzie has got the place fixed up right nice. Refused to go out there with him unless he put in proper plumbing and such.

“Do you know Frank well?” Jack asked the man.

“Sure, everyone knows Frankie. Darwin’s a small place,” he continue, “He told me to say he was sorry to miss you. He left his truck for you to use too, it’s out the back. He don’t let no one touch that, so you must rate high with him.”

“You see, Jack,” Phryne said. “It’s all settled. It would be an insult to your friend to refuse his hospitality.”

“Are you sure?”

“You, me, secluded,” she said. “What’s not to like?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Jack said, smiling.

They gathered their luggage and went around back to the truck.

“It’s a far cry from your Hispano,” Jack said, looking at the beat up, dusty vehicle. It was clearly well used, and intended for traveling through rough terrain without much concern for comfort.

“I’m sure I can manage,” she said, glaring at him. Honestly, at times he treated her as though she were a china doll.

They settled their belongings in the back and climbed in, heading to town to shop for needed supplies.

“So, who did you tell your friend you were traveling with?” Phryne asked.

“I said it was a friend and colleague,” Jack replied. “I’m sorry I didn’t correct that man when he assumed you were my wife.”

“Why would you?” she said. “We don’t need to define our relationship to every Tom, Dick and Harry we come across.”

“I believe his name was Joe,” Jack said.

 

* * *

They’d been driving for nearly two hours. Phryne had slept for some of it, but was now wide awake, being regaled by Jack with stories from his childhood.

“Oh, you never did,” she said. “I can’t believe you would ever put a friend at risk of being hurt.”

“That’s what Dad said just before he gave me my whupping. He said I was lucky Gordo walked away with just a bump on the head instead of missing an eye. It was a rather large goose egg. We tried to hide it under his hair, but his mum saw it right away,” he said laughing.

“What ever made you do something so reckless?”

He glanced at her with a smirk, as if to say she were one to talk.

“We were ten,” he said, “do you really need another reason? I’m sure there were plenty of times you endangered one of the admirers foolish enough to follow your lead.”

“I was a paragon of virtue,” she said.

“You forget. I’ve met some of your friends,” he said. “And I wasn’t always the ‘noble Inspector,’ as you’ve called me. I had my share of getting into trouble. Mum blamed Gordo, said he was a bad influence on me, but Dad knew better. We were a team of mutual destruction, Gordo and I. He was game for anything. Best friend I ever had.”

“And either very trusting or very stupid, to stand still and let you try to shoot an apple off his head!” she said.

“With a slingshot,” Jack reminded. “We’d been reading _The Adventures of Buffalo Bill_ and had just finished the part where Billy wins Little Grey by shooting an apple off the head of his pony. We didn’t have a pony, so we were going take turns. We flipped for it and I got to be Billy first. Of course, after I beaned Gordo, I never got to play the pony. Couldn’t sit for a day afterward either. Not that it deterred me for long.”

“So young Jack was a bit of a hell raiser. Fascinating,” she said. “What became of Gordo?”

“He didn’t come home.”

He smiled sadly, and she nodded. He needn’t say more. Too many didn’t come home from that terrible war. She found herself silently thanking the stars that he had. That Jack had been one of the lucky ones, if any of them could really be considered lucky.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sliding to his side and placing her hand on his thigh.

“I still visit his folks from time to time,” he said, shrugging. “I think this is our turn.”

He made a quick left onto a small dirt road. He’d nearly missed it because of the excess of brush and vegetation on either side. About a half mile later they were pulling to a stop in front of a very small cottage with a peaked, overhanging roof. Its grey siding was weathered by years of exposure to the elements and it looked a little lonely, standing by itself among the tall grasses and trees.

He hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed. He wasn’t. If the cottage itself wasn’t beautiful, the surroundings were.

They were in the middle of the wet season and the frequent rains had made everything lush. The plants were bursting with color, the greens and yellows more vibrant than he’d ever seen. A little creek, full and flowing, could just barely be seen, but clearly heard, behind the house.

“Well, ‘secluded’ was the right word,” she said.

Jack was relieved to see her expression was one of delight. She turned to him and gave him a smile so lovely and contagious he couldn’t help but return it.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Phryne get domestic.

Jack turned the key in the door of the small cottage, and when it swung open, was pleasantly surprised by what they saw. The house was small, probably no more than 500 square feet, but it was well laid out and at first glance looked cozy and comfortable. At the moment, it was stuffy and very hot, having been all closed up since Frank’s last visit. They moved about the main room opening the windows wide and throwing back the shutters to let in some air.

There was a sitting room, and a small bath with only a toilet and sink, but Jack had seen an outdoor shower enclosure through the back window. At one end of the house there was a little kitchenette with a sink, a pantry and a small icebox. A few pots and pans hung from a rack on the ceiling. Opening the door at the back of the house, Jack found a barbecue. 

Tucked to the side, just inside the front door were slanted, ladder-like stairs leading to the lofted sleeping area. After they’d made their tour and opened as many windows as they could find, including the one Phryne had found when she climbed up to check out the sleeping area, they went back to the truck to unload their suitcases and provisions.

“We may as well leave the cases down here,” Phryne said. “There’s not much room in the loft. I doubt you could even stand up straight.” 

She tucked them under the bench by the door. Hanging above the bench, to the left of a rack of coat hooks, was a framed photograph. In it, were six young men in uniform, arms around each other’s shoulders, grinning widely. Second from the left she saw a very familiar face.

“I’d recognize that jawline anywhere,” she said, tapping the glass.

Jack came to stand by her side.

“Which one is Frank?” she asked.

He pointed to the man on his right. He was a big, dark haired fellow, taller than Jack, and where Jack was lean and wiry, this man was broad and barrel chested.

“Frank is a large man,” Phryne said, sounding a bit awed.

“Yes,” Jack said, smiling. “I’m sure you’d find him impressive.”

He ticked off the names of the other men. Of the six, four had returned home, one of them without his right leg below the knee.

“He gets by,” Jack said. “Works in the family shoe shop, ironically enough.”

Phryne stared at the picture of young Jack. The photo had obviously been taken at the beginning of his tour. All the men looked so youthful and full of life. It was so unfair what that war had cost. Even the men that came home had paid too high a price.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright staying here?” Jack asked. “There’s not much of a bath. We’ll have to do our bathing in the stand-up shower outside.”

“That only adds to the fun,” she said, turning to him and smiling mischievously. “That creek out back might come in handy too.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist.

“You’re going to be the end of me, aren’t you?” he said, but he didn’t sound too upset by the idea. 

He gave her a squeeze and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

“Why don’t you relax for a bit. I’ll go pull together something for our supper.”

“No,” she said. “I want to help.”

He looked at her in surprise.

“What is that look?” she said, “I do know my way around a kitchen, Inspector, but if you don’t want my help.”

“No,” he said, “I’d love the help. Please.”

Jack pulled an onion, some lean minced meat, fresh parsley, a small green pepper and an egg from the icebox and set it all out the on the counter.

Phryne found a knife and got to chopping the onion and parsley while Jack went outside to light the barbie and set the hot plate on it. Then he squeezed along the counter next to Phryne, and chopped up the pepper. They mixed together all the chopped ingredients, along with the minced meat, some soft bread crumbs and the egg. 

Once everything was blended together, Jack formed the mixture into little balls, rolling them between his palms, and then flattening them slightly. Phryne took them and tossed them one by one in a bowl with some flour. They worked in contented silence. 

Jack took the newly formed rissoles outside to cook on the hot plate. While he was doing that, Phryne tidied up the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine, pouring out two glasses. She went outside to keep Jack company, handing him a glass. 

“Thank you,” he said, taking it and wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her in for a kiss, before turning his attention back to the barbecue. 

She watched him turn the little patties, making sure they were getting brown on all sides, but not burnt. When they looked near done, she took his glass, and went back inside, where she set two dishes and silverware out on the clean, but well-worn wooden table tucked up against the opposite wall. She refilled their wine glasses and set them by the plates. Then she scrounged up the stub of a small candle and placed it in the center of the table, found a match in a kitchen drawer, and was just setting it alight when Jack came inside. He smiled at the cozy little scene.

“Sit down, please,” he said, holding a chair out for her, and pushing a few patties onto her plate once she was seated. He filled his own plate than sat opposite her. He raised his glass, she followed suit.

“Cheers,” he said.

She smiled, nodding her head slightly and touched her glass to his.

“This looks very good,” she said. “I’d say we’ve found another place where we make a good team, Jack.”

“Who’d have guessed,” he said.

“Tell me more about your childhood. I find your stories most illuminating.”

“I think it’s your turn. I’m sure you have many stories far more hair raising than mine,” he said. “Unless you’d find that too difficult,” he added, looking at her intently, hoping he hadn’t stirred up bad memories.

“That’s kind of you,” she said, “But I find I don’t mind talking about Janey with you. In fact, I rather like it. It helps me remember the happy times. And we did manage to have a few of those.”

“I’m sure you did,” he said, leaning forward to encourage her.

“Unlike you and your friend Gordo, I was the worse influence. Janey wasn’t completely innocent, though, and she was more than happy to get caught up in my wake. Arthur too. It was especially bad when Guy was around. The combination of Guy and I was a lethal one. Luckily, Aunt P. managed to protect us from the wrath of my father most of the time.”

“Your Aunt protected you?”

“From Father, yes,” she said. “But, not from her own wrath. And if you think she is formidable now, take 20 years off her age! The thing is, she always thought Arthur and Janey completely guileless. With Arthur, she was mostly right, but Janey did her share of instigating our ill conceived adventures. 

In fact, one of the worst, where she decided we should build a raft to float down the creek after it was swollen from the rains, nearly got us all killed. The water was flowing far faster than it appeared and the raft began to fall apart. It was a miracle we made it back to the bank. We were all sopping wet and Arthur was crying to wake the dead.

But Janey had that golden blond hair and angelic expression, no one ever believed her capable of such a scheme. It naturally had to be my fault, as always,” she said.

“Did you resent that?”

“Probably at the time. But now, I’m more than glad to have taken the blame. It was my job to protect her, after all.”

She looked suddenly sad, glancing down at the table, her shoulders slumping slightly. He put his hand over hers.

“It wasn’t really,” he said. “You know that, don’t you? You were a child.”

“You’ve said that before,” she remarked, looking up at him with a sardonic smile.

“It’s the truth,” he said. “Just because there were adults in your life who abdicated their responsibilities, doesn’t mean they fell to you. And no one could have foreseen an evil like Foyle.” 

She squeezed his hand.

“Did I ever tell you how much it meant to me? What you did for me and Janey?”

“I didn’t do anything other than my job,” he said.

“That is utter rubbish, Jack Robinson,” she said. “When I walked into that room and saw what you had done. All the pictures and files, the notes and the mapping. You put all your considerable talents and intelligence into solving a case no one cared about anymore. You believed me when no one else would have. You helped me to find her and bring her home. And I don’t think I ever thanked you.”

“You did,” he said. “You let me stand at your side. You took the comfort I so desperately wanted to give you, and you let me share a little of your pain. That, along with knowing that Foyle will never walk free again, and that your sister and the other girls are at peace, is thanks enough.”

“Only you would think so,” she raised her glass, “To my hero,” she said.

“I’m not,” he said, shaking his head.

“Toast with me, Jack.”

“Alright,” he said. “But not to me. To Janey and Arthur and Gordo and all the other loved ones lost. The ones that knew us when, and made us who we are today.”

“I’ll drink to that,” she said smiling.

“I’ll take care of these dishes,” he said, standing and taking her plate from the table.

“I can help,” she said.

“There’s hardly enough room for two at that sink. I can handle this. Go relax,” he said.

“I’ll at least keep you company,” she said.

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged.

She watched him plug the sink, pile in the plates and open the tap, adding a little soap. While the sink filled, he undid his cuffs and rolled his sleeves to above his elbows. He dipped his hands into the hot, soapy water, scrubbing down one plate at a time before rinsing it, and setting it to the side. Watching him was hypnotic. 

It was very warm in the little kitchen. His shirt, slightly damp with sweat, clung to his back. She could tell he wasn’t wearing an undershirt today. Without even realizing it, she had risen from her chair and gone to stand behind him.

She pressed herself against his back and wrapped her arms around him, running her hands up over his chest.

“Hello, Jack,” she said, softly. He could feel the soft press of her cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Hello, Phryne. What’s on your mind?” he said, amused.

Her hand slid down his stomach, below the waistband of his trousers to cup him between his thighs, kneading gently. 

“Phryne,” he groaned, “Oh, God.”

His hands came up from the water to grip the far edge of the sink as he bent forward and pushed back against her

“Should I stop, Jack,” she asked. He simply shook his head slowly, as his breath came faster.

He reached his arms behind him and around her to pull her tight to his back. His hands were wet and hot from the water, warming her and dampening the back of her skirt.

He turned suddenly and took her in his arms, pulling her to him and kissing her. He pushed her back against the counter, lifting her and setting her on top. She wrapped her legs around him, melting in his embrace, his mouth hot and heavy on hers. 

Jack reached around him to grasp her ankles, running his hands over her calves and up, under her skirt to caress her thighs, alternately kissing her neck and lips, teasing her with his tongue, as his arms gripped her and pressed her to him. 

She begin working on the buttons of his shirt, but became impatient, and tugged hard, popping off any that remained, She leaned back and smiled, admiring her handiwork, as he pulled his arms free of the sleeves and let the shirt fall to the floor. 

Her hands moved to the buttons of his trousers. He pulled away suddenly, and smiled wickedly at her.

“Bed,” he said, gruffly.

She let out a gleeful squeak, and jumped down from the counter, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the ladder to the loft. They didn’t make it far before he spun her to him, and pulled her down. They tumbled to the floor, landing on top of the well-worn, braided rug in front of the hearth.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “this will have to do, I’m not navigating those stairs right now.”

“This will do just fine,” she said, wriggling out of her skirt while he shed his trousers.

“You are a beautiful man, Jack,” she said breathlessly, taking in the whole of his striking figure. 

“You’ve fallen behind, Miss Fisher,” he said, reaching for her blouse. 

She stopped him, pushing him down so he was laying on his back. She straddled his thighs and sat on top of him. 

Looking down, she was pleased to see his expression was one of hungry anticipation, his eyes dark, his jaw clenched, his whole body tense. He placed his hands on her hips, and kept his eyes locked on hers, as she slowly raised her blouse and lifted it over her head. His hands followed the path her shirt had taken and when she was fully bared, he blew out a breath, and let his hands roam free.

She rose up and slowly lowered herself on to him, never taking her eyes off of his. He glanced down, watching as they were joined, then lifted his head to meet her eyes again. His expression had softened.

“Phryne.”

It was barely a whisper. More an oath than a speaking of her name. He cupped her cheek with his large warm hand and his chest rose and fell faster with each breath. Her blood rushed through her veins, her heart pounded in her chest. She’d felt it before, with him, but this time she understood it better. This was the connection he had spoken of. 

This was what he’d meant when he’d said it belonged to them alone. She rocked slowly, closing her eyes, but found she couldn’t keep them shut, she wanted to look at him. He moved with her, finding a rhythm. Not frantic or wanting. Their movements were relaxed, unhurried, full of longing and love.

So much love she thought her heart would burst from it. There was no explosive climb or violent shaking of the earth. What she was experiencing was much more profound, and deeply satisfying. She felt more connected to him than anyone ever in her life before. 

She reached for his hand, twining her fingers through his and holding on tight.

“I love you, Jack,” she said, her voice strong and true.

He raised himself up, encircling her back with his strong arms, pulling her chest to his and pushing up into her one more time, toward his release. He crossed his legs under her, cradling her in his lap, as she wrapped her legs around him. Her head dropped down on his shoulder. She breathed him in. They quivered quietly together. Their arms wrapped tightly around each other.

“My Jack,” she sighed.

“Yes,” he said. “Always.”

Always. The way he’d said that word. It wasn’t just a romantic utterance brought on by sated bliss. She felt his meaning deep in her soul. It brought an anxious fluttering to her heart. She wasn’t sure if it was joy or fear. It wasn’t unwelcome, but it was unprecedented. Nothing in her life had ever been steady or permanent. Except, perhaps her friendship with Mac, but even they’d part company for years at time.

A sudden clap of thunder rent the air and rain began pounding the roof above their heads. She pulled back, looking at Jack.

“Well, there go my plans to take you outside and give that shower a try,” she said.

He lifted her from his lap, stood and reached down for her hand, pulling her to her feet.

“Who needs to use a shower when mother nature has provided one on her own?”

He pulled her out the front door and into the falling rain. She let out a shriek when the water hit her bare skin, hot from the heat of the day, and their recent exertion. But the rain was warm and felt sensational. It came down hard, and in no time at all she was soaking wet. She spread her arms wide, lifting her face to the sky and turning in circles. 

Jack watched her twirl. Mesmerized by the sight of the rain sluicing down her body. She was a goddess. Her pale, unblemished skin, glowing in the dim light of darkening day. He pulled her into a firm embrace and kissed her passionately.

A bolt of lightening cut across the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder that shook the ground, and had them pulling apart. Jack laughed.

“That was close,” he said. “This is probably not the safest of places to be. We should go inside.”

She knew he was right. Standing outside during a thunderstorm was a pretty bad idea, but, at that moment, with his arms securely about her, she thought there was no safer place on earth.

They went back inside and found some towels in the bath and dried off. After securing the shutters and doors against the rain, they climbed up into the loft and crawled into bed, snuggling together. The storm had slowed, and the rain fell on the roof in a comforting, steady rhythm. Before long they were asleep.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Phryne spend a quiet day together and in the evening, he reads aloud to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, but it's a rainy day here, and I had some time on my hands!
> 
> I'm getting to the end of my love story, and hope to post a chapter a day until it's finished. Thanks for sticking with me and for all the lovely kudos and comments!

They awoke to a sunny morning, rising late and having a leisurely breakfast of toast with spread and berries. Jack boiled a pan of water on the grill to make a pot of tea. After breakfast they took a walk, following the banks of the creek. Jack took Phryne’s hand to assist her over some of the rougher terrain. She didn’t really need his help, but accepted it anyway. She liked the way he swiped his thumb over the back of her hand, and held on a bit longer than was absolutely necessary.

It appeared they were completely alone in the area, they never saw anyone, or any evidence of other human habitation. The creek steadily widened and after a mile or so they reached a point where the water began flowing faster and they could hear the rush of a waterfall. They drew closer and stood near the edge, feeling the spray from the falls mist over them. It was a welcome relief from the heat.

“Do you think one could jump from here?” Phryne asked, looking over the edge to where the water was churning below.

“And live? No.” said Jack, taking her firmly by the elbow and drawing her back from the edge. She pouted.

“Where is your sense of adventure, Jack?”

“Tucked firmly behind my desire to grow old,” he said.

They found a winding path down to the base of the falls and continued following the creek. They came upon a spot where some of the water was pushed into a small pool, separated from the faster flow by a sandbar. This time Jack conceded it looked safe enough for wading, and sat on a boulder to remove his shoes and socks, and roll up the cuffs of his trousers. He didn’t know why he was surprised when, moments later, Phryne streaked by him, completely naked and threw herself into the pool.

“Come on in Jack! The water’s wonderful.”

The water was clear and cool and she could see all the way to the soft, sandy bottom that shifted under her feet. She watched him on the shore as he stripped off his clothes and laid them carefully on a rock. Her own clothes lay in heap a few feet away.

“Hurry up, Jack!”

She could hear the rush of the waterfall in the distance. The water swirled gently, caressing her body. Standing flat footed, it reached almost to her shoulders, lapping over her breasts, the chill causing her nipples to stand at attention.

Jack felt slightly self-conscious, walking naked into the pool, but it also felt freeing. She pushed him to do things he’d never do on his own. Things he thought he had to leave behind because he was an adult. And being an adult meant you had the responsibilities of an adult, and had to put aside childish whims. That idea seemed a little ridiculous to him now. What was so wrong with having some fun while you were still alive? What a lot of time he’d wasted. The water was refreshingly brisk. As he drew near, she glided over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Climbing him like a tree, she locked her legs around his waist. Her skin was smooth and slippery. Cool to the touch. Weightless, as she was in the water, it took no effort to keep her aloft. He widened his stance to steady himself against the shifting sand, and let his hands run freely. She sighed happily, arching her back and closing her eyes to enjoy the sensation of his large, slightly rough hands gliding over her skin.

“Have I mentioned that you are the most fun I’ve had in years?” he said.

“Thank you, Jack. I hope that’s the compliment I think it is, but I have a feeling you’ve had very little fun in recent years. Am I right?”

“You might be, but that doesn’t make it any less a compliment.”

“From now on, I’m making it my goal to increase the fun in your life,” she said. “We need to make up for lost time.”

“I’m not sure how much more fun I can take!” he said laughing.

“I hope we haven’t hit your limit. For fun, or anything else,” she said, winding her hands up into her hair and kissing him. She slid her tongue along his, deepening the kiss, pulling at his lips and pressing tight to him. She moved on to his neck, the salty taste of sweat and his scent intoxicating her. She flicked her tongue into the hollow at the base of his throat, felt the hum of his moan as he shifted against her. He gripped her bottom, pulling her tight to him.

“Oh, good,” she said. “I see we haven’t reached your ceiling just yet.”

“Good lord, woman. You are beyond imagination. Do you even have a limit?”

“If I do, I’ve yet to find it. At least not where you’re concerned,” she said.

“I’ll do my best to keep up,” he said, losing himself in her eyes.

She ran her hands slowly through his hair, she couldn’t tear her eyes from his. The way he looked at her, as though he was seeing inside her. Seeing her most intimate, most deeply held secrets. The parts she sometimes hid from even herself, because she didn’t always like them, or thought no one would understand them. But, he didn’t shy away from them, they didn’t frighten him. He loved her. The true her. The whole of her.

She lowered her feet to the sand, took his hand and led him to the shore, sat on a warm soft patch of grass and pulled him down to her side.

* * *

 

The lay side by side on the sunny patch of grass on the shore, letting the sun and heat dry their bodies.

“Do you know what tonight is?” he said, looking up at the sky, his hands behind his head, elbows extended. He felt very relaxed. “Tonight is New Year’s Eve.”

“That’s right!” she said, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him.

“How do you want to say goodbye to the old year?” he asked.

“I don’t like goodbyes,” she said. “How about we say hello to the new year instead? I have a wonderful notion that it’s going to be a good one.”

Back at the cottage, they made themselves a nice meal and after supper, relaxed on the coach. Phryne lay stretched out with her head in Jack’s lap while he read aloud to her. She’d selected a slim volume from the bookshelf. _Songs of Love and Life_ by the poet Zora Cross

She closed her eyes, listening to Jack’s velvet voice, letting it wash over her. She was only partially aware of the words he was saying, the intimate, rumbling, timbre of his voice alone had her body warming and her pulse racing. He turned a page.

_I know a violet bed where we may lie_  
_Beneath the shady alleys of the air,_  
_Where Venus hold Adonis by the hair_  
_And drains his sweetness till he fain would die._

Her mind was drawn back to their afternoon in the grass, beside the water pool, his body as he lay there. Adonis. It was apt description.

_Creep out to-night with me and you and I will merge in ecstasies of hunger there,_  
_My body moist on yours, and not a care_  
_To court the passage of a pallid sigh._

_O love! O life! I lie upon your breast,_  
_I swoon with longing on your smiling mouth;_  
_O poet-prince, my senses ache and pine._

She shifted slightly on the couch, bringing one knee up.

_Come, drink me as the living wine and best;_  
_And, when your lips have languished to a drouth,_  
_I’ll wet them, tingling, till they melt in mine._

She slipped a hand inside her trousers.

_Your brows are like a vale in Thessaly,_  
_Where tall brown pines reach to a turquoise sky;_  
_And I, amongst the shadows seem to lie_  
_Feeling the warm, sweet leaves flow over me._

Her fingers moved in steady circles. She heard his breath hitch, but he continued his recitation, his voice dropping lower, becoming husky and breathless. The words coming a little faster.

_Your hair is all the woods of Arcady,_  
_Where nymph and satyr in the grasses sigh,_  
_And every phantom wind that passes by_  
_Rustles the golden reeds to melody._

She sighed, increasing the pressure and rate of her touch, pressing into herself and letting her body climb.

_And you are mine -- all, all of you is mine;_  
_Arms, hands and feet, and burning brow and hair._  
_Sometimes I think that Jove, in ruth of earth,_  
_Looked round his throng of gods in vales divine,_  
_And, seeing you, how fine you were and fair --_  
_Sent you to me to show me Heaven’s worth._

She arched up off the coach, shuddering, as a soft, sweet, rush flowed through her.

Jack had stopped reading. She opened her eyes and looked up to find him starring at her with an intensity that caused her body to spark all over again. His breathing was shallow, his eyes ablaze. She stood up and took the book from his hand, dropping it on the table.

“You are divine, Jack. Fine and fair and mine.”

She pushed her trousers and smalls down over her hips, letting them fall to the floor. Stepping out of them, she walked to the steps and began climbing slowly to the loft.

Jack was right behind her, his hands moving up her thighs. He gripped her hips, pulling them toward him and stopping her forward progress. He kissed the tender spot behind each knee and slowly made his way up her thighs, his hands traveling ahead, marking his path. He worked slowly, methodically, drawing out the agonizing pleasure it brought her.

She gripped the ladder, bracing her head against a rung, and hanging on for dear life as her legs shook, and threatened to collapse beneath her. He held her firm, keeping her from falling.

When her body began to go slack and she thought she could no longer hold herself upright, he rose to the step just below her, wrapped himself tight to her back and nearly carried her limp form the rest of the way up to the loft, and into bed, where they spent the better part of the night welcoming in the new year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem is, as I wrote, from a work called Songs of Love and Life by an Australian Poet named Zora Cross. From my meager research it appears to have been published in 1917. I wanted to make sure I credited the author. Her work is really beautiful, and from what I read, was somewhat controversial, due to the sexual imagery. 
> 
> I thought it would be interesting to have a close friend from Jack's younger days have a volume like that on his bookshelf.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne and Jack's holiday draws to a close and the lovers part. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer chapter, to make up for yesterday's short one, and features a madly in love Jack. The man is clearly whipped, but I won't apologize for the overly romantic tone.

It was still dark when Jack awoke. The room was close and hot. No breeze stirred from the small window. Phryne slept soundly next to him. He felt a need to move, to stretch his limbs. He slipped quietly from the bed. The wood floor felt cool beneath his feet.

He found his undershirt and trousers by the bed and slipped them on. The ceiling was slanted, and he couldn’t stand entirely straight. Hunched over, he made his way to the opening in the floor. He lost his footing, lurching forward, smacking his head on one of the low ceiling beams. Cursing softly and rubbing at the bump already rising at his hairline, he bent down to grab up whatever it was he’d slipped on. He picked up a grey silk camisole, cursed again, and tossed it on the bed in irritation.

She was terrible about picking up after herself, as though some magical fairy would come along and do it for her. They’d been here barely two days, yet somehow, the entire contents of her suitcases could be found in various places around the cottage. He was always having to move something off of a chair before he could sit down.

And yet, he’d never complained to her about it, not even after she’d told him he needed to do a better job of cleaning out the sink. His sin had been leaving a trail of whiskers behind after he’d shaved. If they bothered her, she could have washed them down the drain herself, he thought, pressing the lump on his head, trying to stop the throbbing. He made his way downstairs in a huff.

On the floor of the sitting room he spotted her trousers laying in a heap, where she’d let them drop. Memory flooded his brain and he felt blood rush from the bump on his head, to a spot decidedly lower on his anatomy.

He had to admit the camisole hadn’t really been her fault. He was the one that had removed it last night, and casually tossed it aside. He picked her trousers up from the floor, along with the silk underpants, folded them neatly, and placed them on the couch.

In a way, her messiness was endearing. And though it might appear careless, she wasn’t disorganized. She knew where everything was. Perhaps it was the product of an active mind, and a body that was constantly in motion.

It was the same when she was investigating a case. She could seem flippant, teasing and flirting with a witness, as though it was all a game to her. But, Jack knew she missed nothing, and filed everything away in that head of hers. Some small detail that someone let slip, often because they didn’t think her a threat, would be their undoing. Or something would trigger a memory from days earlier that would prove to be the key to the whole case. She really was incredibly clever and a powerful asset.

His aching head nearly forgotten, he slipped quietly out the front door.

The sun was just starting to rise and he could tell it was going to be another hot day. He walked a short distance from the house, and found a spot to sit down. He had less than a week before he had to be back on duty. They would need to start the trip across the continent soon. Then she would leave him in Adelaide, and head home alone.

It had been on his mind after she fell asleep last night, and he’d lain awake, looking at her in the pale light of the moon shining through the little window. Even as she slept beside him, he’d found himself already missing her.

The sun was up now. He stood and went over to a patch of wildflowers, and gathered a small grouping of dessert daisies and wild roses.

Entering the cottage, he shut the door quietly and climbed the steps to the loft as soundlessly as he could. He thought he’d find her sleeping, and planned to lay the flowers on the pillow next to her, and then go prepare them some breakfast. When he got to the top, he was surprised to find the bed empty.

He found her sitting at the kitchen table in her silk robe. His heart skipped. It always did that. Whenever he first saw her, or even when she returned to the room he was in, after having left it only moments earlier. As though it was telling him, ‘ _there she is,_ ’ in case he didn’t believe his eyes. He wondered if that would ever stop.

She had that sleepy look he’d grown to love so much. Her hair was slightly tousled and he realized she hadn’t made up her face since they’d arrived at the cottage. Not even once applying her signature red lipstick. And she looked all the more beautiful to him.

“Good morning, darling,” she said cheerily, turning in her chair to face him. “Where did you get off to?”

“Nowhere,” he said, holding the flowers out to her. “I just went outside to watch the sun come up.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” she took the flowers from him and gave him a beatific smile.

“You looked peaceful.”

He crouched down before her, so his eyes were level with hers, placing his hands on her thighs.

She pushed the hair back from his forehead and gingerly touched the angry lump on his head. She sucked in a breath.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Just a little bump. I forgot how low that ceiling is.”

“You should put something cold on it.”

“There’s no need.”

“Come here,” She leaned forward, and he bowed his head slightly, letting her press her lips to it gently. “Better?”

“Much,” he said.

“There’s tea,” she said, indicating the pot on the table. “Why don’t you sit down and let me make you some eggs.”

“You needn’t go to the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” she said, rising from the table. “I want to. And tomorrow, wake me up. I don’t like it when you’re not there next to me.”

Their stay had been so blissful. Almost like a honeymoon, Jack thought, considering how often they fell into each other. Though he had to admit, his own honeymoon, while very nice, had not been so very carnal. Rosie and he had been young, and inexperienced, just dipping their toes into intimacy of that kind.

He and Phryne had danced around it for so long, their first time together had been explosive, and it had only gotten better since. The things he wanted to do to her shocked him. Most of the time he found himself acting before he’d given it conscious thought. And she received his attentions so enthusiastically, never making him feel like he was asking too much. He’d gotten adventurous, embolden by the way she reacted to his touch and his kiss, letting him know how much he pleased her.

And what she did to him. Things he thought only happened in back alleys where women were being paid for their efforts. He’d been ashamed the times he’d wondered what that would feel like. It seemed so debauched. But yesterday, she’d unwrapped herself from him and drew him from that pond, laying him down on the soft grass. She’d pressed him back, telling him to lie still as she kissed him. First his lips, then his neck, chest and stomach. When he’d tried to draw her back up, she stopped him, pressing a hand to his chest. Then she’d taking him into her warm, wet mouth. It wasn’t dirty or degrading, and he wouldn’t have stopped her if he could have.

She was reaching up to get out some clean dishes. He stood watching her stretch up toward the higher shelves, on her tiptoes, in her bare feet. He suddenly wanted her so badly it hurt. He crossed the room swiftly and wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning forward with his other hand on the counter to brace himself as he pressed against her firm, round bottom and ran his tongue along the side of her neck, nipping at her, the hand at her waist slipped inside her robe and up to cup her breast.

“Oh my!” she exclaimed, his urgent insistence was thrilling. She arched her neck to allow him better access. “What about breakfast?” she sighed

“I want my breakfast in bed,” he rumbled in her ear.

She turned quickly and immediately began opening his pants as she backed him toward the table. It was obvious that he was more than ready for her.

“I think the kitchen has untapped potential,” she said.

She turned away from him and let her robe fall to the floor. Jack once again found himself acting without thinking, as though he had no choice. This woman owned him, body and soul. She laughed in excitement, then cried out in pleasure, and hoped the little table wouldn’t collapse beneath her.

 

* * *

 

Their days at the little cottage had been idealic. Warm sunny mornings that gave way to afternoon rains. They would retreat back into the house to read or play a board game, or, more often than not, make love. Long, unhurried sessions, full of kisses and caresses, adoringly worshiping each other from head to toe.

They prepared their meals together, took turns with the clean up, and stayed up late into the night talking.

On the morning of their final day at the cottage, they rose early and went outside to watch the sunrise. Jack stood at Phryne’s back, wrapping them both in a blanket, the damp grass wet against their bared feet.

“It’s really lovely here, isn’t it?” she said as the sky filled with an orange glow and the colors shifted from the muted grays of dawn to the brilliant colors of day.

He watched her face as the warm glow of the rising sun caressed it. She felt his arms tighten around her.

“I’ll never forget this, Phryne,” he whispered.

This image. Her face, bathed in glowing light, was perfection. He wanted to remember it to the end of his days. He hoped to spend every single one of those days with her. If that wasn’t possible, if this didn’t last, or more horribly, if fate took one of them from the other, at least they’d have had this. It was more than a lot of people got. The memories of this trip, especially these last few days, would be theirs forever.

They went back in and tidied the cottage, preparing to leave. They washed the linens and set them on a line out back to day. While they waited, they took advantage of that outdoor shower one last time. After, they lay tangled together on the coach.

“This cottage has some real advantages over my home,” Phryne said.

“How’s that?” he asked. “This whole place would fit in your parlour.”

“We’re all alone here. No one to interrupt us. I especially like the way you sometimes walk around naked. If you did that at my home, poor Dot would faint dead away. And honestly, it’d be most unfair to Hugh.”

He understood his obsession with her body, but the fact that she found his so endlessly fascinating was amazing to him. When they were in bed, she would often quietly run her hands over him. The first time she’d ghosted her fingertips over the scar he’d tensed, waiting for the inevitable questions, but they hadn’t come. She’d touched it lightly, tenderly, and moved on without a word. After that, he noticed her hand went there often. Then one morning, she bent to press her lips to it.

“Whoever did this, had a lot of nerve, Jack. I very much resent that they’ve marred such a beautiful work of art, but I’m glad of their lack of marksmanship. I’ll at least thank them for that,” she said.

It was the only mention she ever made of it. Maybe someday he’d tell her about the pain and the fear. He’d been luckier than so many others, he had no right to complain. It had all been so long ago.

“I’ll miss this place,” she said, drawing him back to the moment.

He knew he was a very lucky man. He was here, holding this incredible angel in his arms, and she loved him.

“I know it won’t be the same as this,” he said. “But my house is very private. I do have neighbors, but they mostly keep to themselves, and rarely visit.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“An open one. You’re welcome anytime.”

“How many rooms do you have?” she asked.

“Five, if you include the bath.”

“Of course I’d include the bath,” she said. “So, it could conceivably take up to five visits before we manage it.”

“Manage what?”

“To make love in every room.”

“I don’t think you’re giving us proper credit. One room per visit seems a low bar to set,” he said.

“Oh, Inspector,” she said. “You are going to keep me happy, aren’t you?”

“That is my plan, Miss Fisher.”

By mid-afternoon they were on the road back to Darwin. The next morning, Jack left the keys and a letter for Frank at the airfield, thanking him for the use of the cottage. He was sure he hadn’t adequately expressed just how much he’d enjoyed his stay. Before they left, Phryne asked Joe if he would take their portrait with her camera. She showed him how to operate it, then she and Jack stood in front of the plane. He put his arm about her shoulder, and she wrapped both of hers around his waist.

Later, when she had the plates developed, there were three wonderful photographs. One of them her favorite. Just before it was taken, she had turned her head to look up at Jack. His eyes had immediately been drawn to hers, and the camera managed to capture the exact moment Jack’s lips had begun to curve up into a smile. She decided she would have a copy made for him, and frame one for herself to keep on the dresser in her boudoir.

As they flew out of Darwin, Phryne took a small detour over the cottage for one last farewell. They passed the waterfall and dipped low over the little house. The surrounding area was even more breathtaking from the air.

That first day they flew over eight hours, stopping once to refuel before setting down for the night. They’d stayed as long as they could at the cottage and had to push to make it to Adelaide in time.

They arrived as the sun was setting on the fifth of January. Jack contacted the commissioner to get the details of his assignment. He was to go to the local station the next day to meet with officers there, and make sure all the paperwork for the transfer was in order.

Tickets had been purchased for the overnight train to Melbourne on the following day. He wasn’t looking forward to a night alone in his hotel and another, sitting up in a railcar with a convicted criminal. It wasn’t how he had hoped to end this trip, but duty called.

Seeing as Jack was in Adelaide on official business, Phryne got her own room at the hotel for that final night. She planned to make the short flight home in the morning. Jack settled his things in his own room, and then went to join her. He felt foolish pulling down the covers of his bed, and rumpling the sheets. He didn’t know why he’d bothered. What did he care if the chambermaid noticed an untouched bed. He was being ridiculous.

That night was bittersweet. Jack knew this wasn’t the end for them, but it felt like an end nonetheless. The way she clung to him made him think she felt it too.

He tried not to let it get him down, thinking instead of how nice it would be to be home again, and be able to take her out on the town. It had been a long time since he’d been so eager to escort a woman. He remembered taking her to Luna Park once to make good on a bet he’d lost, and how heady it had felt to walk with her on his arm. Whenever she took his arm he noticed he stood a bit taller.

She talked about her excitement to be home again with Mr. Butler, Dot and Jane. She wanted to hear all about married life from the no longer so newly wed Mrs. Collins. Though they both were glad to be returning home, as one usually is after even the best of holidays, there was still a small sadness.

They made love tenderly and eventually fell asleep in each other arms.

In the morning, he woke very early, kissed her as she slept, and slipped back to his own room.

Phryne woke alone. She didn’t like it, and she wasn’t sure which part bothered her more, that Jack wasn’t there, or that she so very much wished he were. She reached for the pillow beside her and hugged it close. It still smelled of him. She was planning to make an early start and wanted time to have breakfast with Jack, so she made herself get out of bed, and got ready to depart.

Jack went with her to the airstrip to see her off. He had a sense of déjà vu, but this time he wasn’t filled with the empty dread he’d had when he drove out after her all those months ago.

He watched as she made her now familiar safety check of the plane, and helped push it out to the field.

She stood in front of him and took his hand, sighing heavily.

“I hate to leave you, Jack,” she said.

“I hate to see you go,” he said. “But, we’ll see each other again soon enough. You will not have an easy time getting rid of me.”

“I won’t be trying,” she said.

“Good,” he said. “I usually don’t fare well going up against you. I expect I’ll have better luck if you’re on my side.”

“You don’t need luck,” she said. “I love you, Jack Robinson. More than I imagined I could. I never wanted this, I actively avoided it. But here you are anyway. You terrify me, and thrill me, and make me unspeakably happy. I am so afraid I will mess this up.”

“Phryne,” he began. She pressed a finger to his lips.

“Let me finish,” she said. “I’m not naive. We will not go home and find everything as easy as it has been, but you are mine now, and I am yours, and that won’t change when our surroundings do. I will be counting the hours until I see you again and feel your arms around me. Hurry home to me, Jack.”

Jack was struck dumb. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but he couldn’t find the words. He tried to memorize her face, her eyes sparkling through the tears that clung to their rims. The way the sun glinted off her raven hair. Her lovely smile. She was the most incredible, most beautiful woman on all the earth. She could have any man she wanted, or live happily with no man at all. And yet, somehow, she wanted him.

He looked over her head to the plane. He wanted to run to it, climb aboard and fly off with her. He didn’t care about his job, or the expectations others had of him. All he wanted right now was her.

But, it was time to try out this thing they had in the real world. He was hopeful that they could make it work. He also knew that he would make every effort to see that it did. He would hang on through all the ups and downs. Try his best to make her happy, and fight tooth and nail to keep her.

All these thoughts crowded his mind as he looked at her. He noticed she’d pinned the little swallow brooch to her scarf, and saw the fine silver chain of the necklace he’d given her for her birthday peeking out from under her collar. He looped the chain over his index finger and drew it slowly from her shirt until he held the little heart, with the red gem held safe behind the beautiful cage, in the palm of his hand. It was warm from her skin.

“You’re taking all I love up in that plane with you. My heart. My whole world. Please be careful,” he said.

“I’ll be careful,” she promised, tucking the pendant back in to rest next to her heart. “We have a lot to look forward to, you and I, so you be careful too.”

He reached his hand under her coat and around her waist to pull her near. His other hand cupped her head and tangled into her hair as her drew her lips to his. Her hands went to his hips, resting gently at first, then slipping around to hold him tighter, possessively. It felt oddly and delightfully familiar. It was another lifetime that he’d stood in a field and kissed her like this. They pulled apart and she smiled up at him. Words were no longer necessary.

He helped her up into the plane, and gave the propeller a tug, while she flipped the ignition switch. Out of habit, he almost climbed aboard himself, but stepped back at the last minute, and walked off the field as she began the plane’s taxi. He turned to watch her start her run and lift off into the air. Her hand came up in a final salute, making him laugh out loud from a memory. He stood sentry until the plane was out of sight.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne settles back in at Wardlow and catches up with some members of her household.

Phryne relaxed in the warm bath. She leaned back and slid down until her entire head was submerged, staying under in the utter silence for a few moments. It was good to be home. She sat back up, wrapping her arms around her knees to give her back a good stretch. She was a little stiff from those last, long days in the air, and thought how nice it would be to have Jack here, his strong hands kneading her back and shoulders.

She imagined those hands caressing her gently, gliding up to massage the nape of her neck. Then, lightly, like a tickling breeze, his fingertips would move along her neck, tracing along her collarbone to the hollow at the base of her throat. He would lay his hand flat against her chest, his large, warm palm moving down to cup her...

“I thought’d you’d shipped all your purchases home.”

Phryne started.

“What was that Dot? I didn’t quite hear you.” Her head dropped back against the tub as she released a shuddering sigh.

“This dress, miss, it’s lovely,” Dot said, coming around the screen holding up a midnight blue, silk evening gown. “Why didn’t you send this one along with the rest?”

“Oh, that dress,” Phryne said, her eyes softening as her mouth curled into large smile.

That dress. The one she’d worn on her birthday to the party in Singapore. The one Jack had been so reluctant to tear from her. The only evening gown she’d ever allowed a man to buy for her.

“That one I wanted to bring along myself. For safe keeping.”

Dot nodded and went to put it with the clothes requiring special care when laundering.

“Dot,” Phryne said. “You don’t need to do all the unpacking now. I’m sure you want to get home to Hugh.”

“Don’t worry about that, miss. He’s working another hour yet. And he’ll understand if I’m a bit late tonight. He knows how I’ve been looking forward to your return. He’s just as anxious to have Inspector Robinson back.”

“I’m sure he is,” Phryne said. _As am I_ , she thought, _m_ _ost eager to have him_. “Dot, do you think, now that you’re a married woman, and my very trusted associate, you could bring yourself to call me Phryne?”

She’d grown used to hearing her name, and all this ‘miss’ business was sounding a bit foreign to her ears. She rose from the tub and took the towel Dot held out for her.

“Oh, I don’t know, miss,” Dot said, “That wouldn’t feel right.”

Phryne shrugged. It was worth a try. She pulled a dressing gown around herself and sat down on her bed.

“What would you like to wear tonight? Will you be going out at all?” Dot asked.

“No, I’m looking forward to a quiet night at home. Come sit by me,” she said, patting the bed by her side. “We’ve hardly had a chance to speak. I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to. How was the honeymoon?”

A fierce blush bloomed over Dot’s face and neck. Phryne wouldn’t have been surprised if it went all the way to her toes.

“Oohh,” Phryne said slyly, “I’m going to guess it was very enjoyable. Good for you.”

“Miss, please!” Dot objected, a big smile spreading across her face.

“Alright then, but there’s no shame in it. Sharing intimacies with the man you love is suppose be enjoyable,” she said. “And, if you ever need any advice, you know you can come to me. But, I’ll leave it there. Tell me about your new home, are you and Hugh settling in?”

“We are,” Dot, said happily. “It was little strange at first, but very nice. It’s lovely making Hugh breakfast every morning before he goes to work, and I do like being there when he gets home.”

 “I’m very happy for you, Dot. I hope Hugh knows how lucky he is.”

“We’re both lucky. It’s a rare thing, miss. To find the one you love above all others, and for them to love you too. It’s truly a blessing. And we’re doubly blessed. Because of you and Inspector Robinson,” Dot said.

“What do you mean?” Phryne said in alarm.

“Just that Hugh and I are very blessed in our employment. Without Inspector Robinson helping Hugh get his promotion, we wouldn’t have our lovely, little home. And of course, I can never thank you enough for all you’ve done for me,” Dot said. “And, I want you to know that I plan to keep working for you, just as I always have. Even if I’m not living here anymore. I don’t want anything to change. You can call on me anytime.”

“Don’t be silly,” Phryne said. “Of course you will still work for me as long as you want, but things will change. You will not be expected to be at my beck and call at all hours of the day and night. You will need your time with your husband. It’s only right. And Dot, don’t feel you have to rush over here to bring me my morning tea everyday. If you wish to remain in bed a little later some mornings, please, don’t deny yourselves on my account.”

She was thinking of some of those long, delicious mornings in bed with Jack and hoping her young friend could experience the same pleasures with her new husband.

“Thank you,” Dot mumbled, blushing again. She wished Miss Phryne wouldn’t always be so blunt about these things. “But you’ll still need me for investigations, won’t you?”

“I will most definitely need you, and I wouldn’t want it any other way,” she assured her. “Now, I think you should run along home so you can be there when that man of yours arrives. I’ll be fine on my own here.”

“Thank you, Miss Phryne. I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” Dot said, giving Phryne a big hug. “It’s so wonderful to have you home.”

After Dot left, Phryne looked at her large, comfortable bed with its opulent silk duvet and fluffy pillows. What would it be like to wake each morning with him at her side, in her bed, in her home. Would she like it? To have him always here?

In some ways she envied Dot. It was so simple for her. If you loved someone, and they loved you, you married. You joined lives and households and tied your fate to theirs. She was glad Dot had held her ground with Hugh and was confident the girl wouldn’t be swallowed whole. Dot Collins, née Williams, was made of sterner stuff than she appeared. And Hugh would learn to adjust his expectations. They were young and hopeful and she had confidence they would find their way.

She, however, was not so young anymore, perhaps had never been as young as Dot. And her fate, in some ways, in a great many ways, if she was being truthful, was tied to Jack’s. She knew she loved him, and he loved her, and they were bound together in life and work. Body and soul now, as well.

She’d left him just this morning. Not ten hours ago and already she was wishing to have him here with her. It’s not as though she’d never thought of him before, in the privacy of her bath and bed, but this was different. Her desire was not to ravish him, but simply to have him near. To feel his calm and steady presence. But, this would ease, she imagined. She wouldn’t always ache for him so desperately. She dressed and went downstairs

At dinner, one consisting of many of her favorite foods, Jane regaled Phryne with tales of her adventures at school and told her that Aunt Prudence had checked in with her often while Phryne was away.

Jane hadn’t been sure whether Aunt P feared she would somehow revert to the wild ways of her youth, or if she hoped to take advantage of Phryne’s absence to exert a greater influence on Jane’s behavior. To assure she remained on the path to becoming an upstanding young lady. Aunt P’s heart was in the right place. Jane was touched by how invested the woman had become in her, and how thoroughly she’d accepted her as one of the family. Even so, she was very glad to have Miss Phryne home again. She could stand to have a few less teas with Aunt P.

After seeing Jane off to bed, Phryne sat alone in her parlour, trying to do a bit of reading, but her mind kept wandering. It was so very quiet in the house.

She wondered what he was doing at that moment. Had he eaten alone in the hotel? More likely he’d picked up something unsatisfying at some pie cart. He didn’t take care of himself when he was on his own.

Was he sitting in his room thinking of her? Did he miss her? Her hand went to the little heart pendant hanging round her neck.

She dropped her book down in frustration at the ridiculous woman she’d become. It was definitely time to go to bed. Obviously she was worn out from her travels and unable to be rational. Tomorrow, she’d make plans with Mac to keep her mind off of Jack. Not that she needed the help. She was certainly capable of tolerating his absence for two days. She headed up to bed early.

Phryne woke in the morning and rolled over in the bed, reaching for Jack. Her hand found nothing but the cold sheet beside her, and she remembered. She laughed at the absurdity. In all those weeks of sleeping by his side, she’d formed a habit.

A habit of reaching for him and having him pull her into his arms. It was almost always immediate, like he’d been just waiting for her to call to him. He’d hold her close against his warm body and nestle his head into her hair mumbling his greeting. Sometimes it was a low, rumbling ‘Good morning’ sometimes, ‘morning, my love,’ or sometimes he’d just kiss her. Kiss her as though he was man desperate with a thirst that only she could quench. Those mornings were glorious. The way they fell together. The way they fit together, as though he were made to be inside her. It was a lovely way to wake up.

So much for keeping him off her mind. She rose, grabbed a dressing gown and padded downstairs to join her household for tea. She had plenty of errands to run today and she wanted to ask Mac to meet her for dinner. She was sure the day would fly by. And tomorrow, he would come home.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Phryne are both back home in Melbourne and eager to begin a new chapter in their partnership.

Elizabeth MacMillan walked in the door, blinking, as her eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight outside, to the dimmer atmosphere of the little restaurant Phryne had chosen for their reunion. She’d have been just as happy to come to Wardlow for one of Mr. Butler’s fine dinners and even finer cocktails, but after getting Phryne’s letter, she understood why her friend wanted to meet away from listening ears.

She hadn’t been terribly surprised when she’d read Phryne’s news. She’d known that DI Robinson had taken leave to go on holiday, and thought it far too much a coincidence that the first holiday he’d taken in years should coincide with Phryne’s absence from Melbourne.

That man was madly in love, and would have followed her to the ends of the earth if she’d asked. Which apparently, she had. That was the surprising bit.

She spotted Phryne waving from a corner table, and went to join her. After a warm hug and quick catch up on what had gone on while Phryne was away, Mac sat back and enjoyed Phryne’s tales of her travels.

“I can’t believe, wait, actually, yes, I can,” said Mac. “In fact, I’m not even remotely surprised you managed to find a murder. Poor Inspector Robinson. The man takes one holiday, in who knows how many years, and you force him to endure days in the air with you at the rudder, emergency landings, and finally, you manage to stumble upon yet another murder.”

“No,” Phryne said, laughing. “This one he found all on his own. I would never have met any of those people if not for him. I was content to stay tucked up in our rooms. He’s the one that got us invited to the party.”

“Now that, I don’t believe. Phryne Fisher content to sit reading a book, and Jack Robinson, out all hours, making dubious acquaintances, and falling into murders.”

“Just the one,” said Phryne. “And it wasn’t really a laughing matter. The life of an innocent young girl was at stake. But, for the record, had he not taken me to that party, my plans for the evening did not include tucking up with a good book.”

“Spare me the sordid details,” Mac said. “It sounds like you two had quite a time.”

“We did,” Phryne said. “It was really so much fun, Mac,” she gushed. “I can’t even begin to explain how truly wonderful it was.”

“So, you’re saying it was ideal, then?” Mac said, rolling her eyes a bit. This was almost too much.

“It was, yes. Ideal,” Phryne sighed.

“Never a cross word or disagreement?” Mac asked skeptically.

“Not one,” Phryne said breezily. Obviously forgetting some of the more emotional evenings and conversations. The near misses and misunderstandings that had almost derailed them in the beginning.

“You’re in the honeymoon phase,” Mac said, matter of factly, taking a hearty bite of her meal.

“I beg your pardon?”

Phryne had to wait for Mac to finish her forkful.

“The honeymoon phase. Where you’re so sickeningly infatuated, you think your lover is pure perfection, and can do no wrong.”

Phryne scoffed, and waved away the notion with a flick of her hand.

“Of course I’m not, but, as for pure perfection,” she said, conspiratorially. “You should see what he has hidden under those buttoned up suits.”

“I’ll trust you on that,” Mac said, raising her hand. “No further description needed. But face it Phryne. You’re besotted.”

“I am not,” Phryne objected, “Jack and I are not adolescents in the grip of puppy love.”

“No,” Mac said. “You’re most certainly not children. Have you thought about what you’re doing?”

“Of course,” she said, indignantly, then leaned forward, questioning, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that the man is in love with you. Crazy in love. It’s been clear for some time now. And, he’s a good man. I’m actually fond of him. You might be surprised to hear this,” she said sarcastically, “but not all the detectives are thrilled to be working with me as coroner. He’s one of the reasonable ones. You’re not going to mess that up for me by crushing the poor man, are you?”

“I wouldn’t do that, Mac,” Phryne said, sincerely, “never intentionally. I care for him.”

“I can see that you care for him, Phryne. But, I’ve known you a long time. Jack is an attractive, intelligent man. Almost any woman’s head would be turned by his attentions. Are you sure you’re not just reacting to his desire for you, because you find it flattering?”

“I can’t believe you think me so self-absorbed.”

“Aren’t all of us, to some extent? Jack gave you a scare, when you saw he had other options. Sure, he wanted you, but, he wasn’t exactly sitting home, breaking his heart over you, was he? Perhaps you were feeling a need to reassert your feminine power. Bring him back to the fold, so to speak?”

Phryne sat there, shaking her head. Is that how she’d felt when she’d seen him with Concetta? Had she feared losing him because she loved him, or because she loved the way he made her feel? And, what if it was both of those things? Was that wrong?

“It’s complicated,” she said.

“Try to explain it to me, because from where I sit, I see a man that has put a great deal of effort into the study of Phryne Fisher. He knows what makes you tick and worked hard to sweep you off your feet. He played the long game, and he played it well. But, to what end? What is he hoping for out of this? What does he want from you?”

“I don’t know that I can easily explain it. It’s not a game, and, he has what he was hoping for. He has me,” she said. “He loves me. And I love him.”

“You love him?” Mac repeated, smiling curiously.

“I love him,” Phryne said, defiantly, “And, I’d like you to be happy for me, but honestly, Mac, it won’t change a thing if you aren’t.”

“Hmmm,” Mac hummed, her eyes narrowing, watching her friend closely. “When is he due home?”

“Tomorrow.”

Mac saw the way Phryne’s eyes lit up, and her happy smile, and realized this was finally it. Her oldest friend was a goner.

She had to tip her hat to Jack Robinson. Phryne Fisher in love. This was going to be interesting. She hoped Jack was as strong a man as he appeared.

“I am happy for you, Phryne,” she said. “For both of you.”

 

* * *

It was past noon by the time Jack had finished delivering the prisoner and completed speaking with all the necessary authorities. The train ride had been long and unpleasant. His companion hadn’t been difficult, resigned as he was to his fate, but he hadn’t been good company either. Not that Jack had expected him to be.

He debated stopping at the station, but quickly rejected the idea. He wasn’t officially due back until tomorrow, and knew if he went to his office, he’d get caught up in some kind of distraction, probably paperwork related, and stay too long. He had somewhere else he wanted to be. He headed for home to clean up. He hadn’t bathed or slept in over 24 hours and felt he must look wretched.

After stopping at the neighbors to pick up his mail, and thank her for looking after his gardens, Jack let himself into his small bungalow. The air was stale and it had that unused smell that could always be found when a house had been unoccupied for any length of time. He threw open some windows and went to clean up.

The tub was inviting and he relaxed in the warm water, soaping up to clean yesterday off his body. When the water became uncomfortably cool, he stood and wrapped a towel around himself and crossed the hall to his room, collapsing onto his bed. He intended only to rest for a few minutes, but fell asleep almost immediately, not waking until late afternoon. He dressed quickly, but carefully, in his best, clean suit and the tie he knew she liked.

 

* * *

 

 

The early evening sunlight bounced off the walls of the stately Italianate mansion. His heart began to pound as he rounded the corner. He strode quickly up the paved path to the painted door, with its shimmering, colored glass sidelights and paused, willing his pulse to slow. He took a deep breath and knocked, purposefully.

The door swung open and Mr. Butler greeted him warmly.

“Inspector,” he said. “It’s so good to see you. Please come in,” Mr. Butler took Jack’s coat and hat, hanging them in the usual spot on the rack.

“Did you have a nice holiday, sir?” the older gentleman asked, genially.

“I did. Thank you for asking, Mr. Butler,” Jack said. “I had a wonderful holiday.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Mr. Butler said. “It seems Miss Fisher enjoyed her holiday as well. She returned home in very high spirits.”

Jack wondered if he imagined the knowing look he thought he saw Mr. Butler toss his way.

“I’ll just inform her that you are here.”

“Jack!”

He looked up to see Phryne, standing at the top of the stairs, and his heart did its familiar skip. A rather large one this time, that didn’t stop, increasing in rate until his pulse was pounding again.

She was wearing those black trousers that fit her so delightfully, and a dark camisole under a very sheer blouse. Her red painted mouth was formed into a welcoming smile and her eyes were shining down on him. The lady of the house. Right where she belonged. Mr. Butler gave a slight nod of his head, then disappeared swiftly and soundlessly.

Phryne flew down the staircase. Jack barely had time to spread wide his arms before she flung herself into them, clamping herself about his neck and slamming her body against his. God, he felt good. So solid and real. Jack’s arms closed tight around her waist and her stomach dropped as he lifted her from the floor.

Dorothy Collins was passing through the hallway, about to head home for the day, when she was puzzled by a sound. She didn’t think she’d ever heard it before, but it was somehow familiar. It took her a second to place it. It was Inspector Robinson, and he was laughing.

Not the low, rumbling chuckle she might have expected from the man. This was a loud, joyful sound, a really lovely sound. She heard Miss Phryne laugh too, then say something she couldn’t make out. She sounded very happy. Dot headed for the doorway, eager to welcome the Inspector home.

She turned the corner and stopped dead, her greeting dying on her lips as her mouth fell open.

The Inspector and Miss Fisher were in a tight embrace, kissing. Not the polite kiss of greeting one might give a good friend. They were kissing in a manner that made Dot think of a recent film she and Hugh had seen. The hero gets his girl, and the iris closes as the two embrace, their lips coming together tenderly.

What she was witnessing now, is what she imagined happened after the screen faded to black. She watched the Inspector’s hand move swiftly down Miss Phryne’s back to cup her bottom firmly, in a very intimate manner. Miss Phryne hummed her approval.

Dorothy felt her whole body flush with heat, and spun to hide behind the wall, near the doorway, afraid to move lest they hear her. Although, she doubted they’d notice a bomb going off the way they were locked together. Finally, Miss Phryne spoke.

“I have missed you, Jack,” she said, breathlessly.

“Have you? It’s been only two days,” he said, quietly, his deep voice reverberating through the hall.

“Two days too many,” she said, “are you saying you didn’t miss me?”

“God, no,” he said, “I missed you, Phryne. But, I was afraid I’d come home to find you were sick of me, and glad of my absence.”

“Never,” she said.

Two days? thought Dot, how could that be? When Miss Phryne had returned home, Inspector Robinson was not here. He’d been on his own holiday. And two days ago he was in Adelaide, to escort a prisoner back to Melbourne. She remembered, because Hugh had told her himself, he was excited that his boss was returning to work.

She nearly smacked herself in the forehead when it hit her. It was so obvious. Why hadn’t she thought of it before?

Miss Phryne had been diligent about keeping in touch while she was away. There’d been telegrams and frequent letters. Then, after writing that she planned to do some exploring on her way home, the correspondence had slowed, and then, nearly stopped altogether. Just after the time Inspector Robinson had left for his own holiday.

Dot silently berated herself. She’d really let her detecting skills slip while Miss Phryne was away. She wondered if Mr. Butler had suspected. If he had, he hadn’t utter a word to her.

To excuse her inattention, she reminded herself that she'd been busy with her own concerns. She thought she could be forgiven for allowing her new home and husband to have taken up a good portion of the space in her head. She was a newlywed, after all.

The Inspector and Miss Phryne moved into the parlour. Dot hurried to the kitchen to speak with Mr. Butler.

“I’ve been waiting for you all day,” Phryne said to Jack. “What took you so long?”

“There were things to settle, and then I had to clean up. I couldn’t come see you in the state I was in. Besides, how would it look if I showed up in the middle of the day for no reason.”

“Is wanting to see me not a reason? Well, you’re here now," she said, running her hand down his lapel and pulling him to sit by her side on the chaise. “You’ll stay for supper.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I’d love to,” he replied.

“And I hope you’ve packed a bag, because I don’t intend to let you leave tonight.”

“I didn’t want to presume,” he said.

“Didn’t you?” she looked at him with dubious, teasing eyes.

“Well, perhaps I presumed a little,” he said. He had in fact packed a change of clothes, but had left them in the boot of the car.

“And to presume further, would you like to step out with me tomorrow night, Miss Fisher? If you are free. Perhaps for dinner?” He said, bashfully, and a little formally.

“I’d like nothing more, Inspector,” she said, as he took her hand and brought it to his lips.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable being seen out with me? It won’t cause complications for you, will it?” she asked.

His head tilted and he frowned slightly.

“It might,” he conceded. “For awhile anyway. But as long as we stay out of the gossip pages, the Chief Commissioner won’t have anything to hold against me. I close cases. _We_ close cases, Phryne, and he’d rather turn a blind eye to any other goings on in order to keep it that way. It makes him look good.”

“The gossip writers will quickly get bored. Pictures of me having dinner with my steady beau won’t sell many papers. Too dull,” she said.

“Your steady beau?” he said, looking so happy, she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from grinning at him like a fool.

“If you like,” she said, shyly.

“Oh, I like,” he said, roughly, placing his hands firmly on her hips.

Mr. Butler entered the parlour, carrying a tray. He was turned slightly, to avoid looking directly at them as he spoke. Jack’s hands returned quickly to his own lap.

“I thought you might like some refreshments," he said, setting the tray on a nearby table.

“Thank you Mr. B. Perfection, as always,” Phryne said. “And would you set another place at the table, please? The Inspector will be joining me for dinner.”

“Of course. Very good. I’ll just close these doors, shall I?” he said, smiling as he backed out of the room. “Dinner will be ready in a little more than an hour. And may I say, it’s very good to have both of you back.”

“An hour,” she said, once he’d gone. She wound her arms around Jack’s neck. “That gives us plenty of time to make a good start, don’t you think?”

Jack wound his hand up into her soft, silky hair and pulled her close. It was good to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to end it here, in the early stages of new love, where everything is colored in a happy, hopeful haze. I hope it's not too sappy and sweet. I'm sure there are bound to be rocks ahead, but I'll leave the angst for other stories. 
> 
> Thanks for all the wonderful comments. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it!


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